


A Severe Case of Fairy

by sternchencas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Baby gets hurt (I'm sorry), Case Fic, Fighting, Hurt!Cas, M/M, Magic, No MCD, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Violence, cas with wings, fairy tale AU, fairy!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 11:12:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18281564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternchencas/pseuds/sternchencas
Summary: When Dean gets thrown into another world during a hunt, it seems like a fever dream that he wishes to escape, but it could also become the best thing that has ever happened to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nickelkeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelkeep/gifts).



> Story written for [ nickelkeep](http://nickelkeep.tumblr.com) as part of the PB exchange created by the [ profound bond discord](http://profoundnet.tumblr.com). I hope you like it!
> 
> My deepest thanks to [EmiliaOagi](http://emiliaoagi.tumblr.com) for wading deep into the swamp that is my writing and draining it until this story became actually readable. You're a saint.

“We’re almost there. Any idea yet what we’re walking into?” Dean asks Sam who’s been staring into his laptop since they’ve started driving three hours ago.

Sam looks up, startled as if just now remembering where he is. “Uhm,” he says, brushing his hair out of his face, “not really. A couple of deaths, some of them freak accidents; could be a witch or a cursed object. There’s more weird stuff in the town’s history. Either it’s coincidence or a long-lasting curse.”

“So we have zilch,” Dean grunts, his voice coming out way harsher than he intended.

“Well, that’s why we go there. To investigate.” Sam gives Dean a long searching look. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” Dean focuses on the road and is glad to see that Sam turns back to his computer since Dean wouldn’t be able to explain what’s wrong with him. 

They’ve worked a bunch of cases over the last couple of weeks and helped a lot of people, but Dean doesn’t feel as good about it as usual. He keeps asking himself when their time will come. Who helps them? When will they find happiness? 

“So, where do we start? Police station?” Sam asks into the silence of the car, eyes still on his computer.

“Sure,” Dean says, a sinking feeling in his chest. This begins like all the other cases and will end like all the other cases. He’ll be stuck in this forever. Or at least until the monster is quicker than him for once and he’ll bite the dust. 

Dean’s mood hasn’t improved when they leave the police station an hour later. The chief doesn’t like it when “some big shots” think they can do his work better than him and the coroner ruled each and every case as an accident. “You have to hand it to him,” Dean says to Sam from the corner of his mouth, “at least he can tell dead and living people apart. That’s something.”

Sam huffs and looks back at the station as if he wants to waltz back in and clean up the place. “I wish we could have taken a closer look at the victims. There’s no way all of these are accidents.”

“What now?” Dean asks, hoping against hope that Sam suggests for them to leave.

“I thought about checking out the last crime scene,” he says instead, trampling Dean’s fantasy. “It’s fresh enough that we might be able to find something they much likely missed.”

“Sound idea, Sammy,” Dean says, but he makes no attempt to get back to the car. Instead, he looks up and down the main road and finds what he’s looking for. A second later, he hands a very irritated Sam the keys to the Impala. “You do that, and I’ll check out the nearest watering hole; find out what the locals think about it being just accidents.”

“That’s actually a good idea in this case,” Sam says with a surprise in his voice that Dean answers with a glare.

“I tend to have those.”

Sam keeps talking, ignoring Dean’s hostile tone. “Maybe there’s an old lady that goes around cursing people. That would be easy for a change.”

“I’ll let you know,” Dean says and takes off down the street. He doesn’t like leaving Baby behind, but at least he has a chance to squeeze in some day drinking.

The town is quiet with only a few people on the street who all give him wary looks. They don’t seem to take kindly to strangers and based on their appearance, Dean in his suit stands out like a torch in the night. He takes off his tie and stuffs it in his pocket before unbuttoning the top of his shirt and running his hands through his hair. This way he can look like a washed-up lawyer instead of a fed. 

When he enters the bar he spotted before, a small bell rings and all eyes turn to him. It’s surprisingly full for 10 am on a weekday, and Dean might actually have a good chance to gather some information if he plays his cards right. He walks to the bar in a quick pace and orders before he sits down. “A beer please,” he says in a rushed voice as if there’s nothing that he needs more than a drink, “and a shot of Whiskey.”

The bartender starts moving without blinking an eye. In some towns, you at least get a second glance for ordering hard liquor in the morning but in this place it seems to be quite ordinary. “You know what, make it two,” Dean says and finally sits down. 

“Enjoy,” the bartender says in a gruff voice when he puts down the drinks in front of Dean and him walking away right after probably suggests that Dean shouldn’t ask him for anything else soon. 

Dean downs one of the shots right away and eyes the second one, but decides to keep it for later. When he takes a swig of his beer, he notices a man in a trucker hat at the end of the bar watching him. Dean lifts his beer as if to drink to the guy’s health, and the man does the same before his eyes fall on Dean’s empty shot glass. “Rough morning?” he asks, his voice just a little less gruff than the bartender’s. He somehow reminds Dean of Bobby.

“You could say that. A five-hour drive and this,” Dean indicates his suit as if he wants to take it off right away, “and all for nothing.”

“What made you come out here then?” the man asks, and from the corner of his eye, Dean can see the bartender shuffle closer. He might not be friendly to strangers but still seems very interested in new gossip.

“My name is Dean Simmons, I’m a reporter for the Leavenworth’s Spooky Enquirer,” he rattles off, hoping that nobody listens too closely to any of the names, “but you’ve probably never heard of that. I was supposed to interview a guy named Mortimer Colwell about a ghost sighting, but I can’t seem to get a hold of him.”

The man at the bar and the bartender share a look. “Well, Mr. Simmons, looks like somebody took the piss out of you. Never heard of any Colwell living here, least of all a Mortimer,” the man says, a bit of amusement in his voice.

“Great,” Dean grunts and downs his second shot, “Just my luck. ‘Don’t believe a stranger when you can ask a local,’ my momma used to say. Guess I should have listened.”

Playing the fool seems to work. The men in front of him hold themselves way less hostile, and the man at the bar leans over and holds out his hand. “Greg Smith, at your service,” he says, and while Dean shakes his hand, a woman comes over from another table. She’s a lot younger than the other customers, and with her makeup and tight cut clothes, she gains Dean’s focus.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” she says and grabs Dean’s hand, her long fingernails digging into his skin, “I’m Mildrith Turner by the way, but you can call me Milly.”

“Nice to meet you, Milly,” Dean says with a smile, and she sits down between him and Greg. 

Milly reluctantly lets go off his hand and smiles back while curling a strand of long blond hair around her finger. “So, Dean,” she says, using way more tongue than necessary to pronounce his name, “did you say ‘ghost sighting?’”

The bartender huffs, but Milly doesn’t pay him any mind and keeps staring at Dean. “Uh, yes, my magazine collects stories about spooky things that happen in small towns. Not that they have to be true,” Dean explains with a side glance at the bartender, “It’s just something to read and talk about, for fun.”

Dean takes a quick swig of his beer and sighs, “But I guess I struck out this time.”

He can feel the shift in the room, and the moment he’s been playing at since he walked into the bar has arrived. Milly is the first one to tell him that she has seen a ghost once, and another woman comes over and tells him about her grandma who was able to talk to spirits.

Dean pulls out a small notebook, and when he begins to take fake notes, the other people in the bar become eager to tell their stories as well. Nothing of it sounds remotely true, but Dean lets them talk for a while. Even the bartender chips in with a story about sheep that gone missing and places a second bottle of beer in front of Dean that Dean didn’t ask for. 

“And what about those accidents?” Dean asks into the room. “I’ve been to the police station earlier and heard about some incidents. Chester Moor?”

“Yes, poor Chester,” the older woman says into the suddenly quiet room. “Got bitten by his dog, Sadie. He went to the doctor and everything, was quite alright yesterday morning, but then by evening…”

She doesn’t finish, but Dean knows what happened to Chester. Heart failure, according to the overly competent coroner. “Was the dog sick maybe?”

“Sadie wasn’t sick,” Greg says, and all eyes turn to him. It’s the first time he spoke after introducing himself to Dean. “Old, yes, but not sick. I’ve known that dog since it was a puppy and there’s no way in hell she would bite anyone, especially not Chester. She was a good dog.”

“Yeah, well, it’s always a good dog till it bites ya,” the bartender says, earning himself a mean look from Greg. 

“She _was_ a good dog?” Dean asks, ignoring the two men’s silent staring contest.

“The Sheriff shot her this morning,” Milly explains, obviously happy to draw Dean’s attention back to her. “It was unfortunate.”

Everybody stays quiet after that for a while, and Dean pretends to get a phone call to excuse himself without having to answer any questions about the article he’s never going to write. He walks past a few shops and around a corner to get out of sight. When Sam doesn’t answer the phone, Dean texts him the news about Sadie. The coroner had nothing in his notes about a bite, and the Sheriff failed to mention that he shot a dog only hours before Sam and Dean arrived at the station.

“Mr. Simmons?” a voice asks behind Dean, and he spins around.

“Oh, it’s you,” Dean says, trying to get back into his role as a reporter. He holds up his phone for a moment before putting it in his pocket. “My editor.”

“Yes, it’s me,” Greg says. “I wanted to talk to you without Milly interrupting me to give you her number.”

“Oh,” Dean says again, not quite sure how to respond to either of these things.

“Of course, I could go back and get it for you. A young, attractive man like yourself probably prefers Milly’s company to mine.”

Dean can still feel Milly’s nails on his arms and shakes his head. “No, I’m not- I’m good. What did you want to talk about?”

Greg looks Dean up and down in a way that makes Dean very uneasy. Again, he’s reminded of Bobby whenever Dean tries to hide something from him. “I’m old, Mr. Simmons, and I’ve seen many things in my time, odd things, but a small town reporter in an expensive suit with a well-maintained piece hidden under his jacket is not one of them.”

Out of instinct, Dean reaches for his gun and regrets it the second Greg gives him a knowing smile. Dean can’t be sure how much Greg knows, but it’s a good time to drop the act. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? My gun?” Dean asks, squaring his shoulders into his usual stance.

Greg looks him over again as if he’s glad to see the real Dean. “I was wondering if you found what you were looking for. Are you going to leave now?”

“Not yet,” Dean says. “I think there might be a story here.”

“You don’t believe those are accidents,” Greg says. It's not a question.

“No, sir, I don’t.”

“Sir?” Greg laughs. It sounds a little bitter but not without humor. “I’ve been a trucker for all my life, you know before I retired. I’ve been to lots of out of town gas stations and roadside diners, and I’ve been to motels that you’d have to burn down if you wanted to get them clean. I’ve met people like you. Loner types who asked weird questions about odd smells and cold spots.”

Dean can’t help but swallow hard while trying to keep his face in check as much as he possibly can. The last thing he wants to do is tell this guy that monsters are real, just as much as the people who hunt them. That would be a job for Sam, with his calm voice and his understanding smiles and nods. Dean wishes he could go back in time and trade places with him. 

“None of them called me sir though,” Greg says with another low chuckle. “But you are not here to hear about my life, right Mr. Simmons? You are here to find something.”

It feels like Greg wants to help him but isn’t sure how or if he can trust Dean, so Dean takes a leap of faith. “It’s Winchester, not Simmons. Dean Winchester.”

“Right, Winchester,” Greg says, rolling the name around in his mouth before reaching into his pocket and handing Dean a napkin with a crudely drawn map on it. “This place is on the north side of town. The locals don’t go there, and we try our best to keep strangers away from it.”

Dean studies the napkin. The location Greg is referring to is probably just a few minutes away on foot and only indicated by a circle. “What is it?”

“I’ve only been there once as a child. I remember that day like it was yesterday. It smelled like summer, the sun burning the skin on my neck, and only once in a while, there was a light breeze kissing my skin. Until we got there,” Greg says, his eyes glazing over and a shudder shaking his body. “The grass was all flat, in a perfect circle, and as soon as we stepped into it, the world stopped.”

He paused for a moment and shook his head. “My grandmother gave me the beating of a lifetime when she found out we’ve been there and told me never to go back. Not that I wanted to. I think they only let us go because we were children. For some reason, they don’t harm children.”

“They?” Dean asks. 

All this time, Greg spoke out of conviction and seemed so knowledgeable and wise, but know he only shrugs his shoulders. “Nobody talks about it, but it’s best to leave this place alone.”

Dean holds up the napkin. “Then why are you giving me this?”

“I figured you’d end up there anyway,” Greg sighs. “I’m sure you don’t care about my advice, but I’ll tell you this. Don’t go there. From all the things you can find in that place, happiness is not one of them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Dean says, avoiding the subject if he’s going there or not.

Greg looks him over again, and suddenly he looks up. “I’ve met a John Winchester once. Dark, serious type; asked weird questions, too. You don’t happen to know him?”

Dean huffs a laugh and Greg nods. “You take care of yourself, Mr. Winchester.”

“Will do, thank you.”

Greg walks back to the bar, and Dean watches him until he disappears. Maybe this isn’t going to be such a cut and dry case. What are the odds of him running into someone who met hunters before and even knows his dad?

Dean sends a picture of the napkin to Sam and gives him a quick update before heading to the north end of the town. They came in this way, and the odd place Greg described is only a few minutes away. It can’t hurt to take a quick peek.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite only having Greg’s crude map as a pointer, Dean has no trouble finding the place the locals fear so much. He also has a pretty good idea what it is. Surrounded by trees is one clear spot, and although the grass is trampled flat, it’s a vibrant shade of green. It must be a fairy circle.

Fairies aren’t their usual gig, and Dean is not quite sure how he would fight one, but he knows that they can be vicious if people don’t behave to their liking. The freak accidents are much likely some pissed of fairies who took revenge on idiots who didn’t stay away.

Dean remembers Greg’s description and makes absolutely sure not to get too close to the perfect circle. He’s about to reach for his phone when something draws his attention. The silence. He’s sure he heard birds before and the wind rustling the trees, but all of it has stopped. Dean looks down at his feet, but he’s nowhere near the circle. When he looks up again, the sun becomes uncomfortably bright until he has to shield his eyes and when an unknown force seems to pull at him, Dean knows he’s in trouble. He tries to jump back, but then everything goes white.

When Dean opens his eyes again, he’s face down on the ground that is covered in leaves. Something is nuzzling at his jacket, and soon he stares into a round, black eye. “Hey buddy,” Dean says, picking up the rabbit. 

He lifts the small animal up while turning around and sets it back down. When Dean manages to sit up, the rabbit doesn’t like their new height difference and takes off into the undergrowths. Dean gets to his feet with a grunt, his muscles aching as if he’s been in a fight.

“Son of a bitch,” he murmurs while taking in his surroundings. There are enormous trees all around him, with thick trunks and crowns so high up that Dean can barely see them. The air is thick with a light fog, and soon his clothes feel damp while every breath cleans his lungs. “Where the hell am I?”

Before Dean can find an answer, he hears a woman’s voice traveling in a sing-song through the trees. “Come out, stranger, come out! We know you’re there.”

Dean presses himself against the nearest tree and scans the area to find where the voice is coming from. Soon after, he can hear another woman, quieter this time. “This is getting boring. Are you sure you had something?”

There’s no answer, and Dean’s heart begins to pump like crazy. He takes short breaths, his head flying from one side to the other, and he stares into the fog, desperate to see any enemies before they see him. Finally, he has the sense to reach for his gun but freezes in mid-movement when it isn’t there. His eyes fall to the ground, seeing something silver glistening between the leaves, a few steps away and out of reach.

“Gotcha,” a woman’s voice says, and a figure steps out from behind a tree. She has dark, wavy hair and her short, thin dress reminds Dean of a Halloween costume. She steps over the leaves on the ground with naked feet, barely making a sound. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty one. Take a look, Ruby.”

Dean takes a step around the tree behind him, closer to his gun, but then the other woman walks out behind the trees on Dean’s other side. This one has long, silky hair and lighter features than the first one. She wears a skirt made out of leaves, and her chest is barely covered with some linens. “Fine, Meg, I admit you were right. He’s definitely human,” she says in a bored voice.

“A fine catch is what he is,” Meg says. She takes another step and watches him like pray. “I can’t decide where I want to sink my teeth in first.”

“Yeah, no offense,” Dean says, trying to buy time to come up with a game plan, “but I’m not really in the mood right now.”

Ruby laughs, and when Meg gives her an angry look, she shrugs, seemingly more interested in her nails than anything else. “What? It was funny.”

They keep bickering, but Dean doesn’t pay attention. His body grows warmer, the small hairs on his neck standing up. Something is coming, and it has to be worse than these two women.

“You know, I wanted to have some fun with you,” Meg tells Dean, “but now I think I’ll just have a quick snack.”

“Eat something else,” a dark voice says behind Dean and a tall, broad figure steps out from behind the tree Dean is using as a cover. The man stops next to him, their arms almost touching and Dean takes a step away, even if it means walking away from his gun.

Barely moving his head to the side, Dean takes in the newcomer. Just like the women, he has dark hair and his dress code is way off. Under any other circumstance, Dean would have laughed about it. The man wears tight pants that hug his muscular legs and end in thin leather boots. Similar to the woman called Ruby, his stomach is naked, and prominent hip bones show at the rim of his pants while a leather string comes down from his shoulder, crosses his bare chest, and goes around his hips. Little pouches are attached to it, and while one side has a sheath, Dean can’t see the handle of a knife.

“I pulled him in, he’s mine,” Meg declares, while Ruby takes a step back.

“It’s forbidden,” the man says, his sharp-cut jaw clenching. “Walk away.”

Meg laughs. “Forbidden? Maybe it was under the last joke of a king. It’s not anymore.” She takes a step forward, studying the man. “It’s not like you care about rules. Castiel, right? Heard you were a bit of a trouble maker.”

“What I am is nothing of your concern,” Castiel says.

“I’ll just take my human, and we’ll be gone.”

Castiel shakes his head, and Meg takes a step forward. Dean feels the heat again, and there’s a rustling sound in the air like electricity. Ruby walks over to Meg, trying to grab her arm. “Come on, it’s not worth it.”

Meg doesn’t listen. When she takes another step, the ground starts shaking, and the fog swirls around her. The tops of the trees start moving, and small branches fall to the ground. “He’s one of them. You can’t win,” Ruby says, fear creeping into her voice.

“Can’t be,” Meg says, looking Castiel up and down. “He’s almost naked.”

Castiel takes a step forward, and out of nowhere, a lightning strike hits one of the trees next to Meg. A thick branch crashes down, barely missing her. Ruby lets go of Meg’s arm. “I’m out.”

As she disappears between the trees, Castiel walks towards Meg, but she stands her ground. “You’re bluffing.”

“Are you willing to take that chance?” Castiel asks, his voice more of a growl now.

Dean can only see him from behind, but from one moment to the other, Meg’s eyes grow wide with fear. She takes a last look at Dean before she rushes off after Ruby. As soon as she’s gone, the forest goes quiet, and Dean breathes a little easier.

“Thanks, man, I-” Dean begins, but Castiel rushes over to him. With one hand, he pushes Dean against the tree while holding the other one over Dean’s mouth.

“I think it was here,” another unfamiliar voice says behind the nearby trees. “Do you see anything?”

The fog thickens around them. Dean has a feeling that Castiel has something to do with it. He stares at Dean, making sure that he stays quiet. All Dean can do is stare back into Castiel’s eyes, which are so incredibly blue that Dean’s sure he’s never seen anything like it before.

“This damn fog,” comes the reply. “I can’t… wait, there’s something. Must have been two people.”

“But he’s alone,” says the first voice.

“Maybe he has help. Enough of these rebels around these days.”

The men keep talking, but their voices begin to fade as they walk away. After a while, Castiel takes his hand away from Dean’s mouth. “Why did you come here?”

“Not on purpose, dude,” Dean says, and he wishes Castiel would let him go. The bark of the tree is cutting into his back, and he still has the urge to get to his gun. 

Out of nowhere, Castiel pulls out a weapon that looks like a beefed up letter opener to Dean and holds it to his throat. “You are human. You’re going to help me find someone in your world.”

“Alright, I’ll help you, but you gotta chill.” Castiel furrows his brows, and Dean gets the feeling that Castiel has never been chill in his life. “Look, we’re on the same side. Castiel, was it? I’m Dean, and I want nothing more than to go back to my world. So if you want to go there, I’m all for it. Just lead the way.”

Castiel nods and finally lets go of Dean. At the same time, the weapon vanishes and Dean has no idea where Castiel put it. Before he can figure it out, Castiel turns around. “We have to-”

A loud crash comes from somewhere in the trees, and when Castiel turns to the noise, Dean takes his chance. He rushes to the spot where he suspects his gun is and throws himself down to the ground. Finding the glistening of silver again, he grabs it, rolls over, and gets to his feet with his weapon drawn.

Castiel is still watching the trees, but when there’s no more noise coming from there, he turns to Dean. “You’re going to tell me how to get back to my world. I suggest you do it fast,” Dean says. He has had enough of this place and its weirdly dressed inhabitants.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Castiel says, walking in Dean’s direction.

Dean doesn’t mean to, but at the sound of another loud crash in the forest, he pulls the trigger. The bullet hits Castiel square in the chest, but he doesn’t even waver and keeps coming closer while the gun in Dean’s hands grows hot. Dean drops it with a curse. His survival instinct kicks in, and Dean remembers the small knife he has strapped around his ankle. He manages to draw it just in time. Castiel is only one step away from him now and close enough to grab him, but Dean doesn’t let him. In one swift movement, he lifts the knife and manages to burrow it in Castiel’s shoulder.

It has as much effect as the bullet. None. Dean stares in disbelief as Castiel tilts his head like a puppy, as if wondering what Dean is doing. He looks down at himself, and without haste he pulls out the knife and drops it to the ground. There’s no blood, and the cut the blade left knits back together in seconds. “We have to go,” Castiel says, squinting at Dean.

“There he is!” A scream echoes through the trees and before Dean has a chance to find the source, a lot of things seem to happen at the same time. 

Castiel grabs Dean and swirls them both around. Dean struggles to get free, but Castiel has him in an iron grip, one arm around his waist and the other over his chest. Two men come crashing out of the forest, heading straight for them. They’re dressed like Castiel, and one of them holds a spear while the other one draws a sword as they close in. Castiel begins to mutter words Dean doesn’t understand, and pressed flat against him, Dean can feel the vibrations of Castiel’s chest in his body, and his deep voice washes over him.

Whatever he’s doing, Dean hopes that he’ll do it fast and isn’t just using him as a shield. The men seem to understand what’s going on. They stop, and the one on the right lifts his spear and throws it. Castiel’s hand on Dean’s arm grows hot like a branding iron, and the fog becomes so thick around them that Dean loses sight of the men. All he sees is the spear coming closer and heading right for his chest. He wants to scream, but no sound leaves his throat. Then the world explodes in white light.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean opens his eyes, but there’s nothing to see. He’s lying on his back with only darkness around him. The air reeks of wet earth, and when Dean tries to move his arms, he hits a wall on both sides. With some effort, he fumbles a lighter out of his pant pocket and manages to light it. A second later, he wishes he didn’t. The light of the flame doesn’t spread far since it has nowhere to go. Dean is buried alive.

Dean drops the lighter and as it goes out, the blackness is pressing against him from all sides again. While Dean runs his hand over the ground to find the lighter, his breath comes in short bursts. He knows he shouldn’t waste so much oxygen, but it’s hard to stay calm when all he can see is a slow and painful death ahead of him.

His heart is running a mile a minute, cold sweat breaking out on his skin while his hand claws at the ground, desperate to find his only source of light. For a second, he wishes that spear had taken him out. Anything but this.

Dean remembers it coming at him and Castiel’s arms pressing even tighter around him, his hand on Dean’s arm. With the memory comes the sensation of heat and Dean thinks about Castiel’s incredibly blue eyes. He wants to tell Sammy about all of this, about how he’s been to the fairy world and came back. Castiel could have let him die right there. It makes no sense that he brought him back, just to leave him in the ground. Or is he still there, but six feet under?

A new wave of panic washes over Dean, but he refuses to give into it. He’s survived too much to be taken out by a few handfuls of dirt. He levels his breathing and methodically runs his hand over the ground. A moment later, he holds the lighter and brings it up to his face this time. Moving the flame around, he can see that it’s just earth around him, no coffin or similar enclosure. He might be able to get out of this.

After pocketing the lighter, Dean turns his head to the side and holds his breath before digging into the ground above him. By pushing the falling earth down along his chest, he manages to carve out some space above, and when there’s enough earth, he turns and wiggles around to move it further down until he can move it with his feet. 

It’s tedious work, and Dean has to take a few breaks to catch his breath and gather his strength. After a while, he’s able to sit up, and by further digging in a crouched position, he slowly gets to stand upright. From that moment forward, it’s easy. Slowly, he moves upward, and his heart almost leaps out of his chest when there's no more resistance as his hand reaches the open air. With the last of his strength, Dean pushes down more earth to step on it and with a scream, he pulls himself up out of the hole, collapsing onto the ground.

Dean has no idea how long he lays there. All he wants is to breathe fresh air and stare at the blue sky above. When his limbs finally stop feeling as if they’re on fire, Dean checks his pockets, but his phone isn’t there. “Fuck,“ he curses and gets to his feet, only to find another morbid surprise.

The hole he came out of is precisely in the middle of the fairy circle. The green grass has turned brown and dry, and the trees that enclosed it have all been ripped out, lying as if a storm had hit them minutes ago.

Dean has had enough. He runs away from the circle and back to the road. He must be misremembering the distance to the town since it doesn’t come into sight, even after Dean has walked for a while. Instead, he finds a closed gas station. When nobody answers his shouts, he breaks the window in the door to let himself in. He makes a beeline to the bottles of water. Dean drinks half of one in one go, before grabbing a plastic bag from behind the counter and filling it with more water and some energy bars.

Dean pauses when he sees himself in a small mirror that hangs next to a door with an “Office“ sign. He’s covered in dirt and uses some of the water to clean his face. Then he takes off his jacket and ties it around his waist.

Dean is about to leave when something tickles his arm, and with trepidation, he unbuttons the top of his shirt far enough to push it down his shoulder. With horror, he can see exactly where Castiel has touched him. His handprint is burnt into Dean’s flesh, the skin red and swollen. “What the-?”

Dean doesn’t get to finish the thought. A loud, rumbling noise fills the air, and the ground shakes before all the windows shatter at the same time, shards of glass flying inside the gas station. Dean throws himself behind the counter and covers his head with his hands.

For a couple of moments, it’s dead quiet, then the door opens, a tiny bell rings, and Dean can hear footsteps. He checks under the counter, hoping it’s one of those places where a paranoid owner might have stashed a weapon there, but there’s nothing. The footsteps come closer, and Dean gets to his feet.

In front of him stands none other than Castiel, his clothes even more alien to Dean than before. Dean has a feeling that the explosion is Castiel’s fault and with everything that happened to Dean before that, he’s taken over by a hot flash of anger. “Son of a bitch,” he shouts, “Are you trying to kill me? Was that you?“

He throws his arms out, indicating the carnage around him. Castiel watches him intently, and Dean can somehow hear him, although he doesn’t open his mouth. “I was trying to communicate with you, but this world is different from mine. You’re not able to perceive my real voice.“

“That was you talking?“ Dean asks. He’s still angry, but at the same time, he can’t help but collect more information on this new complication that walked into his life. Castiel only nods. “Well, buddy, next time, lower the volume.“

Castiel furrows his brows as if he’s contemplating that suggestion. “Is this more to your liking?“ he asks. His voice is as deep and hoarse as it was in the fairy world, but nothing breaks around them.

“Yeah, great,“ Dean says sarcastically, picking up his bag of provisions.

Castiel watches him with interest and his eyes roam over Dean’s clothes. Dean remembers his current appearance and quickly buttons up his shirt before taking another look around for a weapon. “Any idea why I woke up in a hole in the ground?“

“I fear that was my doing,“ Castiel says, looking at his feet.

“You fucking buried me?“ 

“I miscalculated,“ Castiel explains. “It’s not easy to go from one realm to the other, especially when trying to shake two attackers. My apologies.”

Dean has a hard time staying angry, taking into account that Castiel saved his ass, but he’s still got dirt all over him, and he’ll still be able to smell the wet earth a month from now. “And then you just left me there.“

“I didn’t arrive in the same spot, and by the time I found your point of entry, you were already gone.“

All of this makes perfect sense, and now Dean gets angry because there’s no reason for him to shout at Castiel. With a grunt, Dean gives up on searching for a weapon and storms outside. He has to get back to Sam; the case is very much solved. Fucking fairies.

Dean doesn’t get far, though. Out of nowhere, Castiel appears next to him. “Where are we going?“

“ _We_ are going nowhere,“ Dean spits. “I go back to town, and as soon as I find my brother, we’ll be outta here.“

“You have to help me find my son,“ Castiel insists, as if there’s no question about it. “You can’t leave.“

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?“

Castiel nods to Dean’s upper arm, his gaze making Dean’s skin prickle. “It’s fairy magic, you are bound to help me.“

Dean laughs without humor. That’ll be the day, when a guy in tights tells him what to do. “What’s it gonna be if I don’t?“

“Painful.“ The look in Cas’ eyes makes Dean believe it.

“You’re forcing me to help you?“

“I don’t have another choice,“ Castiel says. “I’ve rarely been to the human world, and I don’t have time to waste. He’s in danger.“

Dean takes a deep breath and looks along the road. “Before this Meg pulled me in, it took me minutes to get from the town to the circle, but now there’s a gas station I’ve never seen before, and this damn road is stretching on for miles.“

“It’s not the same circle,“ Castiel explains. “I used another one that looks similar to shake the guards chasing us.“

“Guards?“

“Yes, of the fairy king.“

Dean feels more and more as if he accidentally stumbled into a weird LARPing event. He tries to push his remaining anger down with another deep breath. “Can you get us to the other circle?“

“Yes,“ Castiel says, and without warning, he touches his fingers to Dean’s forehead. This time, everything goes dark.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean wakes up with a headache and a dry mouth, squeezed into the backseat of the Impala. When he sits up, every muscle in his body aches and he has to shield his eyes from the light outside. When his sight finally adjusts, he sees that the Impala is parked in front of a motel and pinned on the rearview mirror is a piece of paper that reads “room 14” in Sam’s handwriting. 

Dean immediately checks his clothes.There’s not a spot of dirt, and he falls back against the seat with a relieved laugh. While talking to Greg and the others, he must have had a few too many, and the whole fairy bullshit was just a dream. There’s a good chance that Sam will give him an exhausting lecture, but he can take that. Dean gets out of the car to look for room 14, the remnants of the dream still fresh in his mind. Being buried alive seemed so real, and there’s one part Dean wouldn’t mind being true. Castiel.

Looking back on it, Dean has to admit that the guy was hot. While somewhat ridiculous, those tight clothes sure showcased a nice body. And those eyes. Dean wonders if his imagination is that good or if he’s seen the guy before in real life. Once he’s had a shower, he might ask Sam. If Dean were able to track the guy down, they could find better things to do than run from guards. 

Dean’s in the middle of a crunchy daydream that involves him, Castiel and whipped cream, when he arrives at room 14. He knocks, and Sam opens the door. Dean fights the urge to hug him, keeping in mind that all those things didn’t happen, and Sam’s probably not up for a cuddle session after dragging Dean‘s drunk ass out of a bar. “Sammy, I’m sorry, okay? But it was worth it. I had the craziest dream, and I’ll tell you all about it, but first I need a shower.“

“Dean-,“ Sam begins, but doesn’t get to finish the sentence as Dean pushes past him and stops dead in his tracks.

On one of the beds sits Castiel, but he’s traded his clothes for a black suit, a white shirt, and a beige trenchcoat. On his lap sits the small bag that Dean uses for his toiletries. Castiel puts Dean’s toothbrush back into it before looking up. “Hello, Dean.”

“No no no,” Dean mumbles and falls down on the other bed. “I thought it was a dream. Tell me you can’t see him.”

Sam closed the door and takes a seat at a small table under the window. “Sorry, Dean, but Cas is very real.”

“Cas?”

“It’s a shortened version of my name,” Cas explains in a serious voice, turning Dean’s razor around in his hand.

Dean can’t believe the nerve of these two. “What, you’re already giving each other nicknames?”

Sam furrows his brows and watches Cas, as if to make sure that he doesn’t cut himself. “You called him that.”

“Why would I-?” Dean begins, his anger flaring again, but he rains it in. “What happened? How did I end up in the Impala?”

“After I was done with the crime scene, I went to the location you sent me. I’d barely reached the circle when the two of you stumbled out from behind a tree. You said, ‘Hey Sammy, this is Cas. He’s a fairy.’ and then you passed out. So we got you into the car, and Cas told me what happened.”

“Did he now?” Dean says, pretty sure that he left out a few details. Otherwise, Sam wouldn’t sit here with him all buddy buddy. “Sam. Bathroom.”

Dean nods to the door. Sam rolls his eyes, but follows him. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Dean tells Sam his side of the story in a low whisper and judging by Sam’s face, he’s not at all happy about the things he hears, mainly the spear and the buried alive part. “So what do you suggest? We ditch him?” Sam asks.

“I can’t,” Dean grunts. He unbuttons his shirt again to show Sam the handprint. “He put some fairy magic on me and apparently, I won’t like what happens when I don’t help him.”

Sam inspects Dean’s skin before taking a quick look at the closed door and lowering his voice even more. “I can’t undo this now, but I have some amulets in the car. With the right spell, I should be able to make you immune as long as you wear it. Then there’s not much he can do.”

“Alright, yeah, that would be good.”

“I’m just not sure how we can get away. Any ideas?”

The image of Cas sitting on the bed and playing with his things pops into Dean’s mind, and suddenly, the thought of just leaving him there doesn’t sit right with him. “Did he tell you about his son?”

“Yes. I told him, I could maybe give him a lead so he could go on without us, but he insisted on waiting and seeing if you were alright,” Sam says, and Dean feels worse. Cas made it clear how urgent it is to find his son, and now he’s just sitting out there, wasting time because of Dean.

“Maybe we should help him,” he suggests.

Sam raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You just told me that he buried you, and we don’t know what he did that made you collapse, not to mention the burn and the spell, and now you want to help him?”

“To be fair, I shot and stabbed him first. And he saved my life and brought me back here,” Dean says, shrugging his shoulders. He doesn’t like the fact that he needed to be saved in the first place. “Besides, we found people before. We’ll just get the kid, they go home, case closed.”

“Alright,” Sam says, shrugging his shoulders as well. “But I’ll still get you that amulet. I don’t like the thought of you being his puppet.” 

“Fine,” Dean agrees, “but I still need that shower.”

“Cas cleaned you up, though.”

Dean looks down on his suit again. “He did that? How?”

“Just touched your arm and all the dirt disappeared,” Sam says. “Seems like not all fairy magic is there to subjugate somebody.”

They leave the bathroom. Dean searches in his bag for fresh and more practical clothes while Sam grabs the keys to the Impala. “I’ll go get us some food.” He stops, looking over to Cas. “What do fairies eat?”

“I doubt that you have any of that here,” Cas says, focusing on Dean’s deodorant as if he wants to set it on fire with his mind, “but as far as I know, I’m able to get nutrition from any human food.”

“Great, then I’ll just get something for you, and we’ll see if you like it.” Sam gives Cas a smile and Dean a pointed look before heading out the door.

“I’m going to need that now,” Dean says, pointing to the bag in Cas’ lap.

“When are we going to look for Jack?”

“Jack? That’s your son’s name?”

Cas nods and Dean has to remind himself that Cas is a fairy. Sitting there, looking somewhat lost and talking about his son, he seems a lot like the people they usually save from monsters. “Look, you wanted my help because you don’t know much about the human world, right?”

“Right.”

“Then you have to trust me and my brother about how to do this. We can’t just go out there and blindly search for him,” Dean explains. “We’ll do some research, get ready, and then we’ll find him. Capiche?”

“Yes, capiche,” Cas repeats, and Dean is surprised how easy this is going.

“Still gonna need this,” he says, stretching out his hand for the bag again. 

Cas hands it to him, but unlike many people, he doesn’t make any effort to avoid Dean’s touch. When he lets go, his fingertips run along the back of Dean’s hand, and severe heat shoots through Dean’s body again, followed by a prickling sensation on his hand. He moves the bag to his other hand to stretch this one and only when he realizes how freaking Pride and Prejudice that is does he stop. “I, um, I’ll be in the bathroom,” he mutters, and Cas sits up straighter on the bed.

“I’ll just wait here then,” he says in all seriousness, focusing on the opposite wall.

“Don't be silly,” Dean says, and he grabs the remote from one of the bedside tables and turns on the TV. “You can watch this til I’m back.”

Dean should learn his lesson and just throw the remote to Cas, but something inside of him craves to be touched again, and when Cas’ fingers glide along his while taking the remote, Dean relishes the feeling of prickling heat that’s now accompanied by a little swirling sensation in his stomach. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says. His voice is serious, but there’s a hint of a smile around his lips and his eyes shine like tiny suns when he looks up at Dean, who has to swallow hard before he can say anything.

He manages a flat “no problem” before rushing into the bathroom. Fucking fairies.

@@@@@

For a while, Dean contemplates hiding in the shower, but he’s not exactly dirty, and even a comfort shower has to end at some point, especially since he doesn’t know how long it will take Sam to return. Dean checks the handprint in the mirror and wonders if Cas really has the power to make him do whatever he wants. His thoughts trail back to the daydream he had before, adding that factor in, but he shakes his head when the swirling sensation in his stomach comes back. “Bad idea, Dean. Bad idea,” he quietly mutters to himself and gets dressed.

When he walks back into the other room, Cas is watching a Bugs Bunny cartoon. That and the fact that he’s wearing a lot more clothes now help Dean a lot to get his mind straight. “Why are you wearing this?” Dean asks while sitting down on the other bed, but Cas doesn’t answer.

Instead, he tilts his head and scrutinizes Dean as if to figure out something important. “You’re in pain,” he says matter of factly a second later.

It’s true that Dean’s body is aching all over, and even the hot shower didn’t help, but Dean’s so used to pain that he brushes it off, hoping that he’ll feel better once he gets another round of sleep. “It’s nothing,” he says, ignoring the throbbing pain behind his eyes.

“I can help you,” Cas says and gets up, stretching out his hand.

Dean lifts his own, blocking Cas’ motion. “Woah, hold it. The last time you touched me, I woke up in a grave. Who says that won’t happen again?”

Again, Cas watches Dean with that intense stare that makes Dean feel like he can see his deepest, darkest secrets. “Before, you said that I have to trust you. Shouldn’t trust run both ways?”

“I’ve been in pain since you touched me.”

“You are in pain because of the distance we traveled in such a short time. I can help you,” Cas assures him, and he looks so genuine that Dean can feel his defense crumble.

“Fine, but if you do something to me, I will shoot you again.”

Cas nods and lifts his hand to Dean’s face again. This time, Dean doesn’t move, and Cas touches his fingers to Dean’s forehead. Unlike the last time, Dean doesn’t faint. Instead, his whole body feels warm, like getting into a freshly drawn bath. Even better, his head stops pounding and his body feels light, as if a heavy weight was just lifted from him. 

Without a word, Cas walks over to the other bed to sit down, and Dean stretches and moves, his body suddenly more agile and relaxed than it has been in months. “Thanks, Cas,” he says, trying to convey that he’s sorry about doubting him. “If you have more tricks like that up your sleeve, we should be able to find Jack in no time.”

“My sleeve?” Cas asks, furrowing his brows and looking down on his coat, but before Dean can explain, the door opens, and Sam comes in, struggling with a few paper bags and some cups. 

Dean helps him to set everything down. Suddenly Sam stares at him. “Woah, what did you shower with?”

“What? Why?” Dean says in horror. Did Cas do something to him after all?

“You look so-” Sam studies him, trying to find the right words. “Refreshed? Young? Like you got an appropriate amount of sleep for a change.”

For some reason, Dean doesn’t feel comfortable sharing with Sam that he let Cas use magic on him again, especially while they were alone, so he just shrugs. “Yeah, you still look horrible.”

Sam gives him one of his bitch faces, but turns to the food instead of retaliating with an insult. “There aren’t many places around here to get food, so burgers it is. Not that you’re going to complain,” he says with a sideways glance at Dean. “You can sit here, Cas.”

Cas walks over to the table to sit down, and Sam takes one of the bags to the nearest bed, so Dean is left to sit at the table as well. Otherwise, it might be suspicious how he tries to avoid being close to Cas. He does his best not to look at him, though and doesn’t really listen when Sam explains to Cas what they’re eating and how to use a straw. 

Other than that, they stay mostly quiet, and Dean dares to look up again. Unfortunately for him, he chooses the wrong moment. Cas has his long, elegant fingers wrapped around his cup and his full lips hold the straw while his cheeks are drawn in when he sucks on it with a little more force than necessary. He lets go of it with a wet pop and a lot of very wrong pictures run through Dean’s mind, making him wiggle uncomfortably in his chair. 

Sam looks over to him with a slight smile, and he almost has a heart attack before he understands that Sam is amused by Cas and not Dean’s idiocy. “So, Cas,” Dean says, trying to start a conversation that might explain why he’s staring at the fairy as if he’d love to have him for dessert. “What’s with the getup?”

Sam wipes his hands and Cas unfolds a paper napkin and imitates him. “Sam explained to me that my usual attire might draw attention to me and that it might complicate our search for Jack. So we went to a store,” he looks at Sam to assure himself that he’s using the right word, and continues when Sam gives him a small nod, “and bought me something more normal.”

“More normal?” Dean asks, also looking at Sam, who answers with a shrug. “How many layers are you wearing? Don’t you sweat under there?”

“I never sweat,” Cas says with a frown. “That’s a very human sensation.” 

Dean is tempted to make a joke about situations where sweating can be a lot of fun, but it might not be a good idea to go there when his mind is already out of control regarding Cas. “But, you know, a coat?”

“Based on what I’ve seen, it’s appropriate to my standing.”

“Appropriate-?” Dean turns to Sam who immediately jumps in with an explanation.

“We’ve talked about that while you were out. In the fairy world, you can tell a person’s social standing by their clothes. The more, the better. Kids or fairies of low rank wear barely anything and then it’s more and more clothing up to the king, who’s completely covered and has a cape and so on.”

Dean remembers how Meg made a comment about Cas’ clothes and how she thought he was no match for her because of it. “But you’ve been half-naked, how does that fit with what you’re wearing now?”

Cas’ face grows dark. He looks a lot more like the fairy Dean met in the fairy world than the guy who plays with a toothbrush. “They tried to strip me of my rank and make me an outcast. That’s what they do before they banish you.”

“Wait,” Sam says, dropping his veggie burger monstrosity, “you said they sent Jack into exile here. Would they take his clothes?”

“Yes,” Cas says, “having no clothes is no reason for shame, but if you had clothes, the biggest harm they can do to you is strip you naked again.”

“What are you thinking?” Dean asks when Sam grabs his laptop with an expression of excitement. 

“Just like Cas, the other fairies wouldn’t know about our rules. If Cas already stands out with his tight pants and leather shoes-”

“Then a naked guy would definitely ring some alarms,” Dean finishes Sam’s sentence.

“Exactly,” Sam says, typing away.

Cas looks back and forth between them like a confused puppy. “What does that mean?”

“That we might have a way to find Jack,” Dean explains, and his stomach does a little turn when Cas’ face lightens up.

“With this?” he asks, looking at the laptop.

Before Dean has a chance to explain, Sam lets out a little cry of success. “Get this, a young man was picked up by the police yesterday morning because he was wandering the streets naked and seemingly confused. He’s not in any missing persons database, and so far, the police were unable to identify him.”

“Hey, that could be him,” Dean cheers and pats Cas’ shoulder before remembering that a fairy might not understand the kind gesture. Cas does look down on his shoulder in confusion before turning to Sam.

“Is he far from here? Can we go there?”

“Give me a second, I’ll see if I can get a picture,” Sam says, and after a few tabs on his touchpad, he turns his laptop around. “Look familiar?”

“That’s him, that’s Jack!” Cas shouts, his voice unfamiliarly high. “Where is he?”

Sam turns the laptop back around to check. “I guess we could be there in about two hours.”

“Great, let’s go then!” Dean crumples up the wrapping paper of his burger and throws it into the nearby paper basket before getting to his feet.

Just like Sam, Dean begins to pack up their stuff, but Cas is still sitting in his chair, a sullen expression on his face. “If you were able to find him this quickly with just this,” he points to the laptop, “then there’s a good chance that the guards of the king will, too.”

“But they don’t know much about the human world either, right?” Sam asks.

“But they could grab a human and force them,” Dean says. He changes a glance with Sam who absentmindedly touches one of his jacket pockets. Dean guesses that’s where he keeps the amulet he bewitched for him.

“Then we need something to fight them,” Sam suggests.

Dean sighs. “I shot and stabbed Cas, and it did nothing. So how do you hurt a fairy?”

Sam and Dean both look at Cas, and it takes Dean a moment to understand what they’re asking of him. Do you really tell two strangers, who you forced to work with you, the best way to take you out?

Cas gets to his feet, and Dean notices how Sam straightens up next to him, ready for a fight. He almost wants to tell him that there’s no way that Cas is going to attack them, but just like he did in the fairy world, Cas brings out his weird fairy blade out of nowhere. He takes a step forward, and Dean readies himself, but then Cas flips the weapon over and holds it out to Dean. “You take this, it can kill them.”

Dean takes the blade, and the room goes dead quiet. Cas is standing right in front of him, just one stab and all of this could be over. He looks in Cas’ eyes and slowly lowers the blade. “Well, this one toothpick might not be enough.”

“I have other means to fight them,” Cas says, staring back at Dean and although he doesn’t say anything, Dean feels like he can see the gratitude in his eyes. He knows full well that Dean spared his life. 

The moment goes on until Sam’s voice breaks their eye contact. “Anything else you can tell us?”

“Their powers are limited in this world, just like mine, but they will still be stronger and quicker than you,” Cas explains. “If you have more weapons, I might be able to put spells on them. They won’t kill them, but you can do some harm.”

“Great,” Sam says, grabbing his bag. “We have enough stuff in the trunk.”

He leads the way, and Dean is about to follow him when he feels a light touch on his shoulder. He turns to Cas, who keeps his hand where it is, warmth radiating from it and seeping into Dean’s body. “Thank you,” he says for the second time today, but this time, he seems a lot more open, almost vulnerable.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Dean says. “We do this kind of thing all the time. We’ll have your son back in no time.”

“This might help,” Cas says. He holds out Dean’s phone and a familiar gun.

Dean takes it with a wave of joy washing over him. “Kept this, huh? I thought I lost it.”

“I have trust issues,” Cas says in his dry tone, and Dean laughs.

They walk to the Impala together, and Dean doesn’t mind that Cas’ arm is brushing against his own. He’s a fairy, after all, he probably doesn’t know any better. And besides, where’s the harm?


	5. Chapter 5

“Okay, that’s the place,“ Sam says, nodding at the police station in front of them. “Jack has to be here.“

“And you’re sure about that plan?“ Dean asks with doubt in his voice.

“This is a small town, they won’t be ready for me busting in there and acting like the feds own the place. Just give me five minutes to set it up, and they won’t notice the two of you sneaking in.“ 

Sam sounds so convinced that Dean nods. “Alright, alright, go. We should hurry.“

Sam gets out of the car and half jogs over to the station. When the following silence becomes almost touchable, Dean turns to Cas. “You good?“

“I’m not sure about this. Why can’t we just tell the police that I’m his father?“

“Because in this world, you need very official looking pieces of paper that prove what you’re saying,“ Dean explains. “And if you begin to answer any of their questions with the word fairy in it, chances are that they’ll keep you both there.“

Cas chews on that for a moment. Dean doesn’t say anything else until it’s time to go. They cross the street, and Dean goes in first with Cas on his heel. The front desk is empty, and from the corridor on the right, Dean can hear Sam talking, lecturing the local cops about rules and regulations that, knowing Sam, might actually exist.

Judging by a floor plan that Sam obtained, the holding cells are to the left. They reach them within a minute, but they’re all empty. Dean curses under his breath, and Cas looks back the way they came. “What now?“

“Well, he’s a naked, confused kid. Maybe they thought he’s not dangerous and didn’t lock him up.“

“Then where would they take him?“

Dean shrugs and hopes that they’re not keeping an eye on him right now. “Gimme a second.“

He texts Sam to make sure that Jack isn’t somewhere over there and Sam texts back immediately. “He’s not with the cops,“ Dean tells Cas. “Can’t you sniff him out or something?“

Cas squints at him. “My sense of smell isn’t any better-”

“No, Cas,“ Dean interrupts him, rolling his eyes. “Can you do some sort of tracking magic to locate him? He has to be close by.“

“I might,“ Cas says, but he doesn’t look very comfortable with the idea. Still, he closes his eyes and points to one corner of the room. “I’m sensing magic over there. It’s way more than there should be.“

“Alright, that’s something.“ Dean leads the way again, and around the corner, they find the door to a break room. Dean opens it just a smidge, and after peaking through, he walks inside.

At one of the tables sits a young man. Before him, he has a bottle of coke and a whole bunch of sweets, most of the candy wrappers already empty. When he spots Castiel, his eyes grow big with joy. “Castiel,“ he cheers and tucks on his jacket. “The humans gave me clothes and their food is great. I like nougat.“

“Can we move this along?“ Dean mutters under his breath, and Jack focuses on him now. 

“Who is this?” he asks and his eyes narrow. Dean sure can see the resemblance to Cas.

“Dean is my friend,” Cas says without pausing for a second, and Dean’s stomach does a little somersault. “He’s here to help me get you out of here. We have to go now, and quietly.”

Jack doesn’t argue this point. He stuffs the remaining chocolate in his jacket pocket and follows Dean, who’s taking the lead again while Cas is bringing up the rear. They’re almost out when a cop comes back to the front desk. As soon as she sees them, her hand wanders to her gun. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

Dean smiles brightly and walks towards her. “It’s alright, officer,” he says, although he has no idea what to say next. 

While she’s focusing on him, Cas steps up to her from the side, and when she turns her head, he waves his hand in a circle in front of her face. “Nothing is out of the ordinary. You can go back to the others.”

The cop nods her head and walks back into the corridor on the right. “Did you just Kenobi her?” Dean says, highly impressed, but Cas only gives him a confused look.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s-,” Dean starts, but this might not be the best moment to introduce Cas to Star Wars. “I’ll tell you later, let’s get out of here.”

As soon as they left the station, Dean texts Sam. He might be a good actor, but they shouldn’t push their luck. They’re crossing the street, and Dean is pulling out his keys when Cas shouts at him, “Dean, stop!”

Dean freezes on the spot, and a second later, a spear is soaring past him, hitting the Impala and sticking there. He turns to the direction it came from, and sure enough, there’s the same guy who threw his spear at him in the fairy world. Without thinking, Dean pulls out his gun and starts shooting. At first, the fairy doesn’t move, probably thinking that bullets won’t hurt him. Then, he looks down at his bleeding wound. He screams and all hell breaks loose.

Dean’s new arch-enemy didn’t show up alone. There’s the second guard from the fairy world, and doing a quick headcount, Dean guesses about ten others. He doesn’t like those odds at all. Still firing, Dean grabs Jack’s arm and shoves him behind the Impala to keep him safe for now while Cas jumps right into the fray. 

 

Cas rips the spear out of the Impala’s side and fights tooth and nail with all of their attackers coming at him. They use swords, and fairy blades, similar to the one Cas gave to Dean, but sometimes Dean can make out colorful shifts in the air. They must be throwing actual spells at each other.

Dean expects the cops might show up any second, since he carelessly emptied a whole clip right in front of a freaking police station, but only Sam comes out of the building. He looks taken aback at first, so apparently the fairies did something to mask the noise of the fight.

Just like Dean, Sam fires at the fairies, which gives Cas a little breathing room while they scatter. Sam makes his way over the street and dives behind the Impala. Dean opens the back door and forcefully pushes Jack into the car before giving Sam the keys. “They want him, you have to get him out of here.”

“Are you crazy?” Sam asks with a look at Cas. “I’m staying.”

“We’ll hold them off as long as possible. Once they notice he’s gone, I’m sure they’ll follow,” Dean explains his thinking. “You’d better be long gone by then.”

Judging by his face, Sam doesn’t like that plan one bit, but he knows his brother well enough to not argue about it now. He climbs into the Impala from the passenger's side, and Dean grabs Cas’ fairy blade before closing the door. After taking a deep breath, he gets up to join the fight, and Sam starts the car, immediately taking off with screeching tires. 

By the time the fairies notice what’s going on, the Impala has reached the end of the street. Dean buries his blade in a guard who tries to sneak up on Cas from behind. After this, Dean’s not quite sure how he and Cas survive at all. They stay close together, watching each other’s backs, but pretty much all they do is defend themselves.

Slowly but surely, the fairies drive them away from each other, focusing their primary attacks on Cas, clearly deeming him the more dangerous opponent. Dean’s not sure how long they can last like this. They’ve killed four of the fairies, but he has a nasty cut all along his left arm and Cas is bleeding from a couple of small wounds, not as invincible as Dean thought him to be. 

With an angry shout, Dean surprises one of his attackers and uses his confusion to stab him a second later. That gives him enough space to stab another one of the fairies who surround Cas, but it also draws their attention. In an instant, the fairies shift their attacks to him, and all Dean can do is defend himself.

Dean barely escapes one of the blades, earning a cut on his cheek. He thinks himself safe, then notices too late that the attack was just a ruse to draw his attention away from a fairy who’s swinging an actual morning star at him. Dean can already imagine the sound his skull would make if this blow hits home. Something black pushes itself in front of him and the morning star crashes into it with a nasty sound, followed by Cas letting out a cry of pain. 

The guards still try to close in on Dean, but Cas cries out, “Enough!”

His voice booms as loud as thunder and a wave of blue light explodes all around them, pushing the fairies back and to the ground. The black thing in front of Dean moves, and his eyes grow big when he understands what it is. Cas has completely transformed himself. The spear he’s holding glistens in a blue light coming from Cas’ hand, and that same light shines from his eyes like an icy flame. The most impressive thing about him is something else though: He has wings.

Dean has no words to describe them. Although Cas isn’t small, his enormous wings make him seem tiny. They stretch all across the road, and they aren’t the usual fairy wings, the butterfly-like ones from a child’s Halloween costume, but full and feathered, some of the feathers as long as his arms. Dean’s not quite sure what color they are, but they remind him of the night sky. When they move, they make a whooshing sound as if Cas is about to blow them all into oblivion with one beat of his wings. Standing there, Cas embodies pictures Dean has seen of angels.

The fairies exchange unsure looks while Cas stares at them. “What are you waiting for? Come on!” he shouts, and they all close in on him at the same time. At that moment, Cas drops the spear and rips his shirt open. Dean can see blood and a strange symbol on his chest carved into his skin. When Cas presses his flat hand on the symbol, a bright light explodes out of him. When it dies down, the other fairies are gone.

“Cas?” Dean says, and he can’t help it that he sounds scared.

Cas doesn’t answer but falls to his knees, so Dean throws caution to the wind and rushes over to him. He manages to catch him before Cas can hit the ground. “Dean,” Cas says in a weak voice, and he slowly raises his arm to touch Dean’s forehead.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean falls to his knees with Cas crashing down next to him, his wings hiding his body. Dean knows that Cas transported them somewhere again, and looking around, he spots the number 14 on the door behind them. Cas brought them back to the hotel. 

Dean crawls over to Cas and carefully turns him around. His eyes are closed, but he’s breathing, and his wounds don’t look good. With a sigh, Dean gets to his feet and pulls out his lockpicking set to open the hotel room door. Then he grabs Cas under the arms and drags him inside. He doesn’t like doing it this way, but while he might have been able to carry Cas, there’s no way he can also lift his wings and navigate him through the door. 

It takes all of Dean’s strength to hoist Cas onto the bed, especially with him needing to put Cas‘ good wing under him while the one that got hit by the morning star rests on top of his body. After making sure that Cas is still breathing, Dean decides that he has to leave him for now, even with a voice inside him arguing vehemently against that plan. "I’ll be right back, okay? You just keep breathing.“

Cas doesn’t react and ignoring the voice in his head, Dean hurries off to reception. On his way, he sends a quick message to Sam. “Back at the hotel. Cas hurt. You?”

 

Sam replies immediately. “On our way to the bunker. No fairies. Keep me updated.”

That doesn’t sound too bad. Since it took the fairies longer than them to find Jack, Dean trusts that they won’t be able to track Sam and Jack down while they’re on the road. And once they’re at the bunker, they won’t have much chance of getting in. For now, Dean has to focus on Cas. First he has to make sure they won’t get disturbed. He rushes into the small office, almost causing the guy in there to fall off his chair. “I need room 14,“ he commands.

“Didn’t you just check out?“ the guy asks over the edge of his magazine.

Dean leans forward to read his nametag. If he has to off somebody, he at least wants to know their name. “Yeah, and now I’m checking back in.“

His tone makes the guy - Mark - put down his magazine. “Got some action, huh?“ he asks with a grin, but when Dean just stares at him, he gets to his feet. “Alright, alright, keep your secrets.“

In slow motion, Mark reaches for the key and turns to Dean, holding it up, but just when Dean reaches to take it, Mark lowers his arm again. “Hey, you don’t want to buy a car by any chance?“

“What?“

“I have this old Lincoln to sell. It’s right in the parking lot if you want to have a look. Good condition.“

He looks at Dean with hope, but Dean shakes his head, feeling a vein in his head pulsing way stronger than usual. “I don’t want a car, I just want my room key.“

Mark scrunches up his face in disappointment but hands Dean the key. “You let me know if you change your mind. I’m here all night.“

Dean barely hears his last words, already halfway out the door. He checks on Cas again and locks the door of the room before hurrying to a nearby store. He buys water and snacks, as well as some bandages and antiseptic for patching Cas up, then hauls ass back to their room. 

Cas hasn’t moved since Dean left, but when Dean leans over him, he tries to open his eyes. “Dean?“

“Yeah, it’s me,“ Dean says, sitting down next to Cas. 

“Where are we?“ Cas asks, voice weak.

“You brought us back to the motel.“

Cas gives a small grin, something Dean hasn’t seen on him before. “I made it,“ he says, wonder in his voice, but then his eyes grow big, and he tries to sit up. “Jack!“

“I heard from Sam, they’re fine,“ Dean says and puts his hand on Cas‘ chest to push him back down, making sure to avoid the cuts. “They’re on their way to a safe place, and with Sam there, there’s no way anyone can get to Jack. Believe me.“

Dean’s not sure if Cas does, but he doesn’t make an attempt to get back up again, so Dean gets a bottle of water from the bedside table and holds it to Cas‘ lips. Cas takes a few sips, and at that moment he feels so very human to Dean. If it wasn’t for the enormous wings, of course. “I stabbed and shot you, and you didn’t blink an eye. Why are you so out of it now?“

“I miscalculated,“ Cas says and gives another weak smile when Dean laughs about the inside joke. “There’s way more magic in our world; I can constantly draw from it, but here I can only use what’s already inside me. It’s probably the lack of nature.“

“But you healed me, you got us to different places, and did whatever you did there,“ Dean says, pointing to the cuts on Cas‘ chest.

“Neat trick, huh?“ Cas asks, but his voice is bitter. “That symbol brings us back to our world, but it needs lots of magic. It’s meant as a fail-safe, not a fighting technique.”

“Why are you still here then?“

“I used magic to shield myself from the effect of the symbol,“ Cas explains. “I wasn’t sure if it’d work. My magic was already pretty low at the police station.“

Dean remembers how reluctant Cas was to use his powers to find Jack. It makes more sense now. Still, he can’t help but marvel at what Cas did, especially with saving Dean’s ass again. He wants to say something about that, but instead he nods to Cas‘ wings. “And you failed to mention that you have a set of those.“

“Trust issues,“ Cas says, and they both share a little laugh until Dean remembers why he went to the store in the first place.

“With your magic gone, I guess I have to patch you up human style.“

He helps Cas out of the torn trenchcoat and the bloody shirt, then empties a plastic container with sweets onto a table to use as a makeshift bowl for water, before settling down next to Cas. “Let’s start with your wing, that was a nasty blow.“

For a moment, Cas lifts his head as if to stop Dean, but then he falls back. “Just be careful, please.“

Dean gets a washcloth and begins cleaning Cas‘ feathers as gently as possible. He has to lift some feathers up to get to the dried blood underneath. They’re strong but bendy, and satiny to the touch. Soon, all the blood is gone, but Dean can see that something isn’t right. “I think it’s broken.“

“Yes, I can feel it,“ Cas says. “You have to set it straight, so it can heal.”

Dean touches the wing where he thinks the bone is broken and runs his fingers along the feathers to find the exact spot. “That feels right,“ Cas says, and without giving warning, Dean pushes the bone into place. 

Cas gasps and bites his lower lip, pressing his eyes shut, and Dean feels guilty for adding to his pain. “I’m sorry.“

“Don’t worry,“ Cas says after opening his eyes. “At least it’s in the right place now.“

Dean proceeds to bandage the wing to make sure the bone stays in its current location, then moves on to take care of the cuts on Cas‘ chest. He’s leaning over Cas, focused on his work, but from the corner of his eye, he can see that Cas is watching him. “What?“ he asks, feeling self-conscious.

“Humans are very different from what I’ve been told,“ Cas says, still watching Dean intently. “Or at least you are.“

Dean wishes he wouldn’t care about Cas‘ opinion, but his words and the way he looks at him bring back the swirling sensation in his stomach. To make matters worse, Cas reaches up and touches Dean’s cheek. Warmth spreads out all through Dean’s body, and all he can do is stare into Cas‘ eyes and get lost in the blue. “You had a cut,“ Cas explains.

When he takes his hand away, Dean reaches up and feels only healthy skin. “I thought you had no magic left.“

“Maybe just a speck.“

Dean doesn’t comment, but gets up to grab more bandages. He needs to get some space before he can touch Cas again. Otherwise, he might do something stupid. 

With some difficulty, they manage to put the bandages around Cas‘ middle, then Dean takes care of all the minor cuts, trying to occupy his wandering mind with problem-solving. “We need to get to Jack and Sam. I can get us some wheels, but you have to hide those bad boys again.“

“That might be a problem.“

“Why?“

“I need magic to hide them.“

Dean’s eyes wander from the tip of Cas‘ left wing over his shoulders down to the other side. “Okay, I have no idea how to hide those without anybody getting suspicious.“

“Maybe you should just leave m-,“ Cas begins, but Dean interrupts him.

“I’m not leaving you here, so shut up,“ Dean grunts. "Do you have any magic at all?“

"I think I do,“ Cas says, shifting his wings and sitting up. "But I can’t tell you how much.“

"Alright then. Let’s just stay the night, and we’ll see how you are tomorrow. I’ll get us something to eat.“

Dean gets them something from the same burger place as before. When he comes back, Dean helps Cas to sit up straight so he can eat. Cas winces slightly when he moves his injured wing. A question that has been bothering Dean pops into his head and he asks, “Why didn’t you just run?“

Cas is busy studying his burger and doesn’t react until he notices Dean staring at him. “Run? Where?“ he asks, clearly not following.

“When those fairies attacked us. You could have followed Jack, or used your wings to get away,“ Dean says. “Instead, you got hurt because of me.“

Both Cas and Dean look at the bandage on Cas wing, and for once, Cas doesn’t stay calm. “I got hurt because of these traitors,“ he says, a sudden rage in his voice. “It wasn’t your fault.“

Cas sighs and takes a moment to collect himself before he speaks again. “Fairies have a keen sense of hearing. I didn’t mean to listen in, but I could hear you and Sam talking in there.“ He nods to the bathroom door. Dean remembers all too well what they were talking about in there. “Look, we didn’t know who you were and-”

“I know,“ Cas says quickly. “To be honest, I was impressed. I didn’t think there were humans so knowledgeable about fairies and well prepared to fight them, even with magic. I know a warrior when I see one, and both you and your brother are clearly fighters.“

Dean feels way more flattered than he probably should and mutters a quiet, “I guess we know a thing or two.“

They stay quiet for a moment, and Dean is well aware that Cas hasn’t answered his question, but it feels like he might if Dean gives him time. They eat in silence and only after Cas successfully uses a straw again, does he broach the subject. “I don’t see you wearing an amulet, despite what your brother said. I guess you, just like I did, considered us partners more than enemies.“

While Dean agrees, he still wishes Cas would have called them anything else than partners; brothers in arms maybe. His choice of words is so familiar and cozy. 

“I need to confess something,“ Cas continues. “That burn on your arm is only a ruse. It has no magic at all.“

Dean automatically reaches up to touch his own arm, the prickling feeling coming back to it. “What do you mean? It wears off?“

“It never worked, Dean,“ Cas admits, looking down at his hands in shame. “I wanted to assure that you would help me, but you could have walked away at any time. I wouldn’t have been able to stop you.“

Dean swallows hard. Somehow he feels different about Cas, knowing how calculated and cunning he can be. At least he did it for his son, and Dean had made the choice to help him, handprint or not. “You didn’t answer my question,“ Dean says. 

Cas watches him for a long moment before answering, “You told your brother you’d help and we did get Jack back. You could have run yourself then, but you fought with me. You didn’t abandon me. So I didn’t abandon you.“

Put like this, it sounds as if Cas made a logical decision, but the way Cas looks at him make goosebumps erupt all over Dean’s body. Cas might say that the handprint means nothing, but to Dean it’s a connection between the two of them. By helping and trusting each other, they formed a pact in a time of war, a profound bond. “Not sure I was much help, but you are a warrior yourself. One against twelve, that’s impressive.“

“I prefer the term foolish,“ Cas says with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Please stop me next time.“

“I don’t know,“ Dean says, and a giggle makes its way out of him, “you sure blasted those sons of bitches away.“

Cas joins the laughter, though less carefree than Dean. He leans back with a sigh. “I guess I did.“

After a while, Dean cleans up their food and checks in with Sam again. He and Jack reached the bunker without trouble, and Sam is doing his best to assure Jack that Cas is going to be okay, even with Dean not being sure how to achieve that. He still hopes that Cas will be able to replenish enough of his magic so that they can leave in the morning. Meanwhile, he sits down at Cas bedside again. 

“Remember when I asked in the police station about you Kenobi-ing that cop?“ he asks.

“I still don’t understand that reference.“

Dean smiles. “Then let me tell you a story. It all started a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...“


	7. Chapter 7

Dean wakes up to something tickling his nose. He brushes it away and burrows his head into the pillow. Still drowsy from sleep, he marvels at how soft it is compared to the usual motel room beds and grabs a handful of fluff to snuggle into. 

“Dean?“

The voice comes to Dean from a long distance, but he refuses to move. The bed is soft, warm, and smells like sunkissed grass after a storm. “Dammit Sammy, five more minutes,“ Dean mumbles. He hasn’t felt so comfortable in ages, and he’ll be damned to give it up easily.

“It’s not Sam, Dean. It’s Cas.“ 

Dean’s mind walks through a cloudy haze, slowly catching on that Sam doesn’t sound so gruff and his eyes open, curious. He looks into extremely blue eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes and when he’s able to take in the whole picture, it’s Cas sitting next to him on the bed. “What were you dreaming about?“

“Why?“ Dean says puzzled.

“You talk in your sleep.“

Dean’s blood runs cold, and he has to swallow a lump in his throat before he can ask, "What did I say?“

“‘Why is that hot? It shouldn‘t be so hot,’“ Cas recollects with furrowed brows. “Were you dreaming about the weather?“

Vague pictures of Cas enter Dean’s mind. He’s dressed in his fairy clothes, his arms around Dean who’s holding on for dear life, pressed against Cas‘ naked chest, as they swing from tree to tree in a ridiculous Tarzan and Jane impression. Could be that he was referring to the tropical weather, but then he remembers a scene where Cas drinks water straight from a big leaf. Dean can see his Adam's apple bob with every gulp, and the water is running down his chin and trickling onto his naked, well-tanned chest. “Dean?“ 

Dean snaps out of it by shaking his head. “I don’t remember,“ he says quickly.

“I didn’t mean to wake you at all,“ Cas says apologetically, “but you’re lying on my wing.“

He nods to Dean’s hand. Dean’s holding onto a bunch of the tinier feathers on the underside of Cas’ wing. Dean didn’t take comfort from a pillow but fell asleep on warm, soft feathers. That’s also where the pleasant smell is coming from.

Dean lets go of the feathers and shoots upright as if he’d been bitten by a snake. “Son of a bitch, I’m so sorry!“

Cas draws his wing away from Dean and stretches it out again into the room. “Don’t worry, it’s the good one. I need to move them. Otherwise, they could go stiff.“

Sitting on a bed in a motel room with Cas in the morning is neither the time nor the place for Dean to think about things that could go stiff, so he jumps up and bolts to the bathroom door. “I’ll have a quick shower.“

Under the reasonably warm water, Dean remembers how he ended up on the same bed as Cas. After his fabulous retelling of the first Star Wars movie, Dean explained to Cas what TV was and they hunkered down next to each other on one bed to have a better view of the small TV in the room. 

Right now, Dean can’t recall what they were watching. To make them both fit, Cas had to rest his wing behind Dean, as if they were moviegoers in a teenage romcom and Cas was about to make a move. At first, Dean sat upright, but Cas didn’t seem to mind physical contact, and after gradually leaning back further and further, Dean ended up snuggled against Cas and must have fallen asleep soon after.

With a sigh, Dean turns off the water. While drying off, he wishes he had something else to wear. If by any chance, they make it out of here, he’ll have to get Cas new clothes as well. Still rubbing the towel over his hair, Dean walks back into the other room. “How’s your magic doing?“

“It is coming back,“ Cas says, still stretching and folding his wings, “but slowly. It’s not enough yet to hide my wings.“

“How long?“

“Seven days,“ Cas guesses. He doesn’t sound sure.

Dean hangs the towel over one of the chairs and runs his hands through his hair. “We can’t wait that long. We’d be sitting ducks, and I can barely afford the room for one night.“ Cas squints at him, evidently confused by almost everything Dean just said, but Dean doesn’t bother to explain. “I’ll get us some breakfast, and then we’ll come up with a game plan. Maybe Sam will have to come help us after all, but I’d rather have him stay with Jack.“

“Jack’s safety is the most important thing,“ Cas says, and Dean nods. 

“Good, I’ll be right back,“ he says. 

It’s just a throwaway sentence, but Cas watches him intently. “I know,“ he says, confirming that he trusts Dean not to leave him behind. The intensity of those two small words make Dean shiver, and he flees the room, deciding on his way that he should look out for a clothing store as well. He needs to cover up Cas‘ chest, or he might end up turning his crazy dream into reality.

Dean manages to find a small shop, and the only things he can buy without going broke immediately are thin linen pants and a wide shirt that they should be able to modify to accommodate Cas‘ wings. He also grabs bagels from the burger joint and heads back to the motel while talking to Sam on the phone. 

When he enters the room, Cas is carefully pacing the room in bare feet. “What are you doing?“

“It’s not what I’m used to, but there is a little magic left in the ground,” Cas says, placing his feet with purpose with every step.

Dean watches him for a moment, trying to imagine how Cas‘ body can absorb magic from the ground. “So, you’re sucking it dry?“

An amused smile appears on Cas‘ face. “Oh no, I’m drawing from it. Nature is not like me, it can’t run out of magic.“

Cas crosses the rest of the room. When he reaches the door, Dean hands him a bagel. Cas thanks him with a nod and keeps walking while he eats. Dean sits down, and stares out the window. They have to come up with a plan that gets them out of here in less time than a week. Not only is Dean running out of money, the longer they stay here, the higher the chance that someone will see Cas, or the other fairies find them.

With a sigh, Dean bites into his bagel and watches the single tree that’s dominating the parking lot. It’s enormous, with branches that span over a couple of spaces and the wind tickles the most delightful sound out of the leaves. It might help Cas‘ magic to be closer to it, but they can’t take the risk of going outside. 

Outside. Trees. Dean slaps a hand at his forehead with such force that Cas spins around at the sound, his wing almost knocking down the TV. “Dean, what are you doing?“

“Nature helps with your magic, right?“

“Yes?“

“This is no fairyland, but we do have forests. Big trees clustered together, maybe even a river somewhere. Would that help?“

“I’m sure it would,“ Cas says, far less excited than Dean. “But didn’t you say we can’t leave?“

“We wouldn’t be able to get all the way to the bunker, but a quick drive during the night is definitely worth the risk.“

“Drive?“

Dean grins. It’s not that he feels particularly good about his second idea, but at least it’s a plan. "I know where we can get a car.“

“So, we’re leaving?“ Cas asks. He lightens up at the prospect, and Dean nods. 

“I’ve got some new clothes for you, and I can call Sam to have him look for the forest closest to us,“ Dean says. He grabs the bag from the clothing store and throws it at Cas. “We’ll be out of here tonight.“

Cas chooses to change his clothes right where he stands, so Dean turns around and watches the tree while calling Sam. Minutes later he has a destination and the best way to get there without being seen. When he hangs up, Cas hands him his shirt. “You have to help me with my wings.“

Dean holds up the shirt to Cas‘ body to guess where to cut into the fabric, and after Cas puts it on, he binds it together with strips of fabric that he cuts out of Cas‘ old shirt. It leaves Cas‘ back still almost bare, but he can cover that with his wings. Cas moves around to test his mobility and looks down at the torn up trench coat. “It’s a shame; I liked these clothes.“

“They suited you well,“ Dean says, not quite sure what makes him say that. Cas watches him intently, but then his gaze travels to the phone on the table.

“Did Sam say something about Jack?“

“Yes, he actually did. It seems Jack likes cereal. Almost as much as nougat.“

“Cereal?”

“It’s food. Most people eat it for breakfast.”

“He should enjoy human things,“ Cas says. There’s a small smile tugging at his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks more sad than happy and Dean wishes he could console him, but he’s not good with the touchy-feely things, so he grabs another bagel and takes a considerable bite before he can say something stupid.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean has no trouble breaking into the Lincoln. One of the windows is rolled down enough that he manages to get the door open with a coat hanger. Doing a quick search of the car, he finds spare keys in the glove compartment. “Mark, you stupid son of a bitch,” Dean whispers, thanking God for the idiots in the world.

It takes him some effort, but without starting the car, he pushes it over the parking lot as close to their room as possible. When he’s close enough, Cas darts out of the place and into the back seat, covered with a blanket. They agreed that even in the dark, he should stay hidden until Dean finds it safe for him to come out. 

Dean gets in and they drive off, only accelerating when they are away from the motel. He hopes it’ll take Mark at least until morning to discover the theft, and with a little luck, they’ll be long gone by then. 

After a ten minute drive without seeing a single car on the road, Dean tells Cas that it’s safe to come out. Cas sits up but keeps the blanket over his wings, and lets out a small sigh. “You alright back there?” Dean asks.

“It’s just good to see the sky,” Cas explains. “The motel room began to feel so small.”

“Well, where we’re going you can do all the sky watching you want.” There’s another sigh, and Dean speeds up a little more. The sooner they get to the forest, the better.

It takes them about half an hour to get to the small parking area Sam found for Dean. From here, a trail leads into the forest, but from what Sam could tell it’s not popular, so nobody should be out here at night. When they get out of the car, Dean sees why. It’s pitch black, and the moon only gives enough light that Dean can see Cas getting out of the car and walking over to him. “Shall we?” Cas asks.

Dean doesn’t have a flashlight, and the battery on his phone is dangerously low. “I’m not keen on breaking my neck.”

“Oh right,” Cas says, turning his head to Dean. “Humans can’t see without light, right?”

“I know you’re next to me, but other than that, I can’t see anything.”

“You could wait here,” Cas suggests, but Dean shakes his head. 

“I don’t think splitting up is a good idea.”

“Do you want me to guide you?” In the dim light, Dean can see how Cas is holding out his arm.

The last thing Dean should do is touch Cas for an extended period of time, but it won’t do them any good if he stumbles around in the dark. So he says, “Yeah, sure,” and interlocks his arm with Cas’.

They creep along the path, and although Dean knows that Cas is watching out for him, he doesn’t like this arrangement at all. He’s used to being in control and can’t help almost jumping at every sound. “Maybe you feel better with this,“ Cas says quietly into the night, and the world around them becomes brighter.

A warm light emanates from Cas and Dean can now see about two feet ahead as well as the trees on both sides of the path. “Don’t waste your magic on me,“ Dean says, but Cas only smiles.

“Here? There’s nothing to waste.“ He seems happier than Dean has ever seen him. “Let’s find a good spot.“

Dean lets go of Cas‘ arm, but still holds on to his hand, enjoying the warm connection as Cas leads him off the path. They walk slower than before, but soon reach a clearing surrounded by tall trees with thick trunks. “That’s not a fairy circle, is it?“ Dean asks, eyeing the ground suspiciously.

“No, we’re very much alone.“

Without warning, Cas lets go of Dean’s hand and beats his wings a few times. He lifts up off the ground and dashes into the middle of the clearing before doing a somersault and dropping to the mossy forest floor. Cas sighs, his wings pressed flat against the ground.

“Enjoying yourself?“ Dean asks with a laugh. He walks closer to Cas while making sure not to step on his wings.

“This is wonderful. I think my magic should be replenished in a few hours.“

“Alright, great. Then I say we leave in the morning.” Dean wants to give Cas time to enjoy himself- after all, they’re heading for an underground bunker- but he still has to think about his own needs as well. “Can I make a fire, or would that be bad?“

“It should be alright, as long as you only take the wood from the ground,“ Cas answers, his voice slower and higher than usual, as if he’s enjoying a new brand of drug.

Staying close to him, Dean walks in a circle through the trees to collect firewood, and soon he has a nice pile. He surrounds it with big rocks in the middle of the clearing and lights a few leaves and small twigs to get the fire going. Cas vacates his resting spot and carefully beats one wing to give the fire some air. It jumps over to the bigger branches, and when Dean is sure that it won’t go out again, he leans back against a nearby tree. 

Cas sits down next to him, his wings spread out on both sides in wide arcs with the tips close to the fire as if to warm them. Dean hates to break the comfortable silence, but there are a few things on his mind that need answers. “Cas?“

“Hm?“

“Can I ask you something?“

“Of course.“

“In the police station, when we found Jack,“ Dean begins, not quite sure how to phrase it, “well, when he first saw you, he called you Castiel. There were times when I wasn’t on good terms with my father but I still always called him dad. I don’t know if that’s a fairy thing-”

“No, you’re right,“ Cas interrupts him. “I know it’s odd and to be completely honest, Jack is not my son.“

Dean stares at him. “Who is he then?“

“Can I start at the beginning? I want you to understand all of it,“ Cas says, the bliss gone from his face.

“Sure, we have some time after all.“

Cas moves to face Dean and curls his wings around himself, the fire illumination him from behind. “The fairy king Joshua had one son, Chuck. When Joshua felt that his life would soon come to an end, he allowed Chuck to visit the human world, but only once. He was supposed to learn whatever he needed to successfully follow in his father's footsteps.“

Dean has a hard time listening. A picture of Sam keeps popping up in his mind, asking him to write that down for future generations. A recollection of fairy history, told by an actual fairy. Cas doesn’t notice, wrapped up in his own story. “On his very first day in this realm, Chuck met a woman called Kelly Kline, and they fell in love. Soon, Chuck had to return to the fairy world, but he found a way to sneak back and see Kelly, especially after he found out that she was pregnant.“

“No,“ Dean gasps, and he can’t help but think this through. "Fairies can do that with humans? You know, makin’ bacon? And they can have kids?”

“If you’re referring to intercourse, then yes,“ Cas says, looking bewildered at Dean’s choice of words. “It seems humans and fairies are not so different when it comes to that.“

“Great,“ Dean says, the word escaping him in a rush and he bites his tongue. When Cas looks even more confused, Dean waves his hand to draw Cas‘ attention back to the story. “Then what happened?“

“Chuck had to return to the fairy world, and Kelly and Chuck decided that Jack should stay with his mother.“

“Couldn’t they both go with Chuck?“

Cas stares at Dean as if he said something extremely scandalous. “Do you remember what Meg said about you? Humans aren’t regarded as more than food by most fairies. Kelly would have been in constant danger. And Jack…“ Cas trails off and stares into the dark of the night.

“Wait for a second, you said Jack got exiled,“ Dean says, thinking out loud. "How come he ended up in the fairy world after all?“

"Sadly, Kelly died while giving birth to Jack,“ Cas says with a weak voice. "I got to know her when I was supposed to bring back Chuck. She was a wonderful person.“

It’s strange hearing Cas say something like this shortly after declaring humans as food only moments ago. It seems that Cas is not your usual fairy and Dean wonders if more of them are like him. "I’m sorry, Cas. That’s always a sad thing to happen,“ he says, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Kids should have their mother.“

Cas reacts to the tone in his voice and looks at him with a question in his eyes, but when Dean doesn’t say anything else, Cas only nods slowly. "Thank you, Dean.“

"So, what happened next? Chuck took Jack to the fairy world?“

"Yes,“ Cas confirms. "He didn’t like what happens to many of the children in this world when they don’t have parents. We brought Jack with us and although king Joshua didn’t like what happened, he never openly rejected Jack. He even threw a feast, celebrating the new heir to the throne. And shortly after, he died, and Chuck had to take care of a whole kingdom.“

Cas face‘ turns somewhat sour with his last words but then he shakes his head and keeps talking. "It’s not that Chuck was a bad father, but he didn’t have time to care for Jack. I constantly argued with him about it since Jack seemed to suffer. You see, fairy children can take care of themselves way sooner than human children. Jack needed more care than Chuck could give him, so he commanded me to see after Jack.“

"Seems like that turned out alright,“ Dean says, but Cas rolls his eyes.

"It was horrible at first. I had no idea what to do until an ancient fairy helped me. To this day I don’t know her name, and she never admitted it, but I think that Jack wasn’t the first half-human child she saw.“

"Makes me wonder how many half fairies are running around here,“ Dean huffs, but they don’t have time for him to explain what tree huggers are. 

"Well, officially, they’re not supposed to exist,“ Cas says. "Nobody knew about Jack until Lucifer, one of Chuck’s advisors, found out. He turned away from Chuck and began to rile up other fairies against him. He told them that Chuck cared more about humans than fairies, that he wanted to give our world to the humans, and a lot more nonsense like that. At first, nobody seemed to care and Lucifer disappeared for years, but he came back a few days ago, murdered Chuck, and tried to do the same to Jack. 

I was able to drag Jack out into the open in time. Lucifer knew that even some of his followers weren’t keen to kill an innocent fairy, even a half human, so Lucifer exiled Jack and stripped me of my rank as an advisor to the king, afraid that I might get in his way. Instead, I tried to get into the human world to be with Jack. Unfortunately, Lucifer got wind of that plan and misunderstood my intentions. He doesn’t understand fatherly love and thought that I wanted to get Jack to take back the crown for myself. With trying to take care of Jack, I brought him in grave danger.“

Cas stares into the ground, and Dean takes a moment to digest everything he told him. One thing bothers him that Cas didn’t mention at all. "So it’s not just Jack. Those freaks attacked me because I was helping you.“ Dean nods to Cas‘ injured wing. "You got lucky. They were trying to kill you.“

"It’s not of import,“ Cas says, barely shaking his head. "Jack needs to be protected. I only care about his safe-"

"Well, then you’re shit out of luck,“ Dean bellows, unable to stay quiet.

"Dean, what-?“

Cas looks at Dean in bewilderment, almost shocked, but Dean doesn’t slow down. "What good does it do him if you get killed? And why is his life more important than yours? Haven’t you given enough? Let those fairy bitches come, nobody dies on my watch, least of all you.“

Cas keeps his eyes on Dean who adds a grump "stupid son of a bitch“ while throwing a piece of wood into the fire to keep it going.

"I didn’t-" Cas stumbles. "Why do you care so much?“

"Call me crazy, but I happen to like you, okay?“ Dean blurts out, the anger still burning in him. "Fairies? Definitely some bad eggs, but you? I’d rather have you alive and well.“

Dean keeps staring into the fire, but from the corner of his eye, he can see Cas smile. "What?“ Dean asks, irritated by the fond look resting on him.

"I’m glad I met you. If I ever get back, I should thank Meg for pulling you in.“

"Nah, better stay away from her. She’s one of the crazy ones,“ Dean says, a shudder running down his back. He likes to think it’s the memory of Meg, but the night is getting uncomfortably cold. He crosses his arms in front of his body, suppressing another shudder.

"I’m sorry, you need this more than I do,“ Cas says and moves away from the fire to sit down next to Dean. 

The primary heat source for Dean is still the fire but Cas’ wing also gives off warmth, and Dean fights the urge to come closer and lean against it. Instead, Cas moves his wing across Dean’s lap. "Would you mind taking off the bandage? With magic all around, it’ll heal quicker without it.“

"Sure.“ Dean does his best to ignore the pleasant smell that gave him such a good night’s sleep and carefully unwraps the bandage. His fingers move the feathers around the wound with care and Cas doesn’t blink. "Looks a lot better, I think,“ Dean says.

He takes his hands away, and when Cas moves his wing, Dean misses both the warmth and the subtle weight of it. He can’t remember being this touch starved, but ever since Cas held him when they fled the fairy world, he longs to get close. Dean runs his hand over his arm where his clothes hide the handprint, and again, he’s not so sure that it doesn’t hold any magic of some kind. 

Dean’s so lost in thought that he forgets about the cold and he shudders so violently that Cas startles. “I might not know much about humans,” he says, “but I think you need more warmth.”

Cas puts his good wing flat on the ground and pats it as if to offer Dean the best seat on the couch. “Here, lie down.”

“What? No! I’m way too heavy,” Dean says. And he might start drooling when he gets to sleep as comfortably as last night, but he keeps that to himself.

Meanwhile, Cas gives him a bitch face that rivals Sam’s. “These carry my weight when I fly at a speed that human minds can’t even comprehend. I think they can handle your body.”

Dean is sure that, physically, Cas can handle him a lot of different ways, but he pushes the thought out of his mind. “Fine, if you insist,” he grunts and crawls onto Cas’ wing as if it’s made out of glass. 

He lies down, resting his head on the top where the wings look boney, but the feathers are so thick and soft that it’s way more comfortable than he imagined. Cas turns to him, and although there’s enough space that another person could lie between them, Dean can feel the warmth from his body. Then, Cas carefully drapes his injured wing over Dean. 

Wrapped up in this nicely scented cocoon, Dean’s eyelids grow heavy, and he sneaks his fingers under some of Cas’ feathers, kneading them like a cat. A noise comes from behind Dean, sounding like a purr, but his mind is too tired to make sense of it. All he knows is that he’s safe, so he falls into a deep sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean wakes up with cold, fresh air streaming into his lungs, accompanied by the scent of earth and grass. Birds chirp so close by that it’s almost too loud. The warm morning sun touches his face and he slowly opens his eyes, finding himself covered with a ton of leaves and a big patch of mossy ground. It takes him a little effort to crawl out from under it, and he slowly stretches his whole body.

Only then does Dean’s brain catch up and he turns around in a circle and stares into the trees in search of Cas. He can’t see him, but hears something he doesn’t remember from the night before. Splashing water.

Dean follows the sound, checking the direction so he can find his way back. After a short walk, the trees open up and lead to a small lake in front of a cluster of rocks. Looking at it, Dean hopes that nobody else will come out this way since Cas still has his wings and is treating the lake like an enormous bird bath.

Cas dives underwater completely, before rising up again and flaring his wings to both sides. The water trickles down his bare chest and arms, the droplets glistening in the soft sunlight. Then Cas plunges his wings back into the water, and his hands run through his feathers as if he’s grooming himself. Dean keeps watching in fascination, and Cas soon gets back to splashing around in the water like a child.

Dean gives him a few more minutes before he walks closer. “Enjoying yourself on this fine morning?”

First, Cas startles, and his wings close around him like a protective shield but when he sees Dean, he smiles, and his wings dive back into the water. “Good morning, Dean. I’m sorry I left you, but I sensed the water, and I needed a bath.”

“It’s alright. It looks-” Cold is the word in Dean’s mind, but he doesn’t want to rain on Cas’ parade. “Refreshing.”

“It is, you should come in,” Cas says before diving down once more then popping back up. 

Dean’s eyes roam over Cas’ chest again, and he feels quite pleased with just looking for now. Even his new found desperation for closeness won’t make him go into this natural freezer. “I’m good. And we should probably leave soon, you know, before anybody else comes around.”

“Of course,” Cas agrees, and he walks to the shore of the lake, his body rising up from the water.

It would be the right thing to turn around, but Dean stares as inch after delicious inch of Cas’ tanned skin comes into view. First his chest, then his stomach and finally his hip bones. At the same time, Cas lifts his wings out of the water and stretches them to their full wingspan, the tips of the last feathers reaching out over the lake and nuzzling the trees on both sides. 

The image gets seared into Dean’s brain, and he can’t remember ever seeing something as beautiful and majestic. He only casts his eyes down and turns around when Cas takes the last few steps out of the lake, and Dean notices that Cas left all of his clothes behind before going into the water. “What are you doing?” Cas asks, his voice confused.

“Um, give you some privacy to get dressed?” Dean says. “Decent thing to do, you know.”

“Ah, I remember. Sam said you all dress not for rank but for decency. My apologies.”

“S’alright,” Dean says with a burning sensation on his face. “Just wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I don’t,” Cas says. “I actually feel very safe and accepted around you. That’s much more than I can say about the company of my brethren.”

Dean’s face grows even hotter, but there’s also pride swelling up inside of him. Cas is a powerful being, more dangerous than Dean could ever be. It means a lot to him that Cas trusts him enough to let his guard down around him. 

Cas’ hand drops down on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m ready to go.”

“Um, you might want to-” Dean nods at Cas’ wings. 

“Oh, right.” Cas shakes his wings one last time, sending water flying everywhere before they slowly disappear from view.

He should look small, but now that Dean knows what hides behind these broad shoulders, he can’t unsee it. “Did you really put them away, or are they just invisible?”

“I guess it’s more the latter,” Cas says after considering the question for a moment. “My wings are a part of me, so they’re always there, but as long as I have control over it, it’s my decision to show them.”

Dean’s stomach does a little turn, thinking that he’s probably the first human to behold Cas’ magnificent wings and although he wouldn’t want for Cas to be powerless, he hopes that he’ll see them again.

They make it to the car without being seen, and after a while on the road, they stop at a big box store to get new clothes for Cas. Without his wings, it makes no sense to wear a cut up shirt, and Dean doesn’t want to draw any attention to them. 

"Here, wear this,“ Dean demands and holds up his jacket for Cas to slip into, but Cas only stares at him.

"Why?“

"Because it’ll hide your torn shirt until we can get you something else.“

Cas still hesitates, but after a moment, he lets Dean help him into the jacket and straightens up as if he’s never worn anything else. They walk over the parking lot as if striding into battle and what’s supposed to be a quick in and out ends up being one of the strangest experiences in Dean’s life.

Cas is used to trading things or making them for himself. Even the idea of a store is strange to him, and he walks through it like a child visiting an amusement park for the first time. More often than not, Dean has to grab his hand and pull him along, explaining for the millions time that things cost money and they can’t take everything.

They spend 20 minutes arguing at men’s wear since Cas insists on a suit and a coat, believing that those are the most respectable clothes. He refuses to wear anything with a print, and finally, Dean haggles him down to a shirt and a hoodie, threatening to let him walk around butt naked. It takes another ten minutes and a lot of deep breaths from Dean to find Cas a pair of jeans. They have to guess the size, and Dean does his best to keep Cas away from the extremely tight ones. Those might fit with a lot of goodwill but Dean fears for his ability to drive a car when Cas is sitting next to him, sporting a package the size of a tennis ball. 

When they’re finally done, Cas looks like a disheveled father of two who had to do some last minute shopping before fetching his kids from a little league game. If the cashier’s smile is any indication, Dean has done a great job dressing him up, but Cas only squints at the lady, and Dean gently pushes him to get out of this place. 

From there on out, everything goes smoothly. Cas enjoys most of the snacks that Dean bought for him, and Dean grins like an idiot for solid ten minutes when Cas proclaims that Dean’s choice of music on the radio is delightful. Dean also uses the time for a perfect rendition of the second Star Wars movie and Cas listens without interrupting him once. 

"We’re almost there,“ Dean says and he’s about to take out his phone when a light flashes next to the car. A second later, there’s a police siren, and a car gets on the road behind them, signaling Dean to stop. 

"Fuck, so close,“ Dean swears and squeezes Cas‘ arm for a second to employ the importance of his next words to him. "Let me do the talking.“

Cas nods and Dean rolls up his window and stops the car. The other car parks behind them, and a cop gets out. He walks towards them, and Dean’s mind is racing. He can pretend to be FBI, but it’s very likely that the cop will check his credentials and it doesn’t explain who Cas is and why they’re driving around in a stolen car.

The cop stops at the side of the car, his hand on his gun, and Dean knows they’re fucked. This guy didn’t come over here for a friendly conversation. Dean reaches for his own gun, and whispers to Cas from between his teeth, “When I say so, you get out of here.”

Dean waits for the cop to approach, but instead, there’s a shift in the air and Cas is gone. A second later, he reappears next to the cop and waves his hand in a big circle. “This is not the car you’re looking for. Get in your car and drive. You never saw us.”

The cop turns around and walks away, and Cas rounds the car and gets back into the passenger’s seat. Dean watches in the rearview mirror how the cop gets back, and when he drives off, Dean turns to Cas. “I told you to let me handle it. He could have shot you,” he scolds.

Cas shrugs. “Or he could have shot you. I didn’t like how you were planning on sacrificing yourself.”

“I didn’t,” Dean says, but when Cas’ face tells him that he doesn’t believe him, he changes course. “And it’s my decision.”

“How come your life is worth less than mine?” Cas asks out of the blue.

“What?”

“You asked me that regarding Jack, but it applies to you as well. It wouldn’t do me any good if you were gone,” Cas says. “I’d rather have you alive and well.”

“Don’t quote me to me,” Dean huffs, but he can hardly argue against what Cas is saying, and Cas seems to be finished talking about it. He fiddles with a package of gum and Dean gets them back on the road.

They reach the bunker half an hour later and find Sam and Jack in the kitchen. It looks as if they’re trying to make pancakes. Jack runs towards Cas with a smile. “Father!” he shouts and hugs Cas, covering him with flour. 

“Hello Jack,” Cas says smiling and hugging him back.

“This place is great,” Jack says, beaming at him. “Come, I’ll show you.”

He drags Cas out of the kitchen, and Sam shakes his head with a smile on his face. “You wouldn’t believe the energy of this kid. Everything alright with you?”

Dean does his best to overlook the current chaos in his beloved kitchen and nods. “We’re alright. Might have to return a stolen car when all of this is over.”

“Sure,” Sam says with a sigh, and then he pulls something out of his pocket. It’s a small amulet that he holds out to Dean. “Here, take this. It should cancel out the spell.”

“Oh, I don’t need it. Turns out Cas was bluffing.”

Dean sits down and runs his hands over his face, and Sam watches him in silence before putting the amulet away. “Cas, huh? You’re friends now?”

“I guess,” Dean admits. “Turns out he just really cares about the kid.”

“Do tell,” Sam says, sitting down next to Dean.

As quickly as he can, Dean tells Sam everything he knows about Cas’ and Jack’s past and what happened after the fairy attack. He only leaves out a few specific details, like sleeping surrounded by Cas’ wings and how he couldn’t stop staring when Cas came out of the water.

“So, what now?” Sam asks. “We can’t hide them down here forever.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Dean says, and he honestly hopes they do, preferably sooner than later. Dean has a lot of things to figure out for himself as well. Something profound happened to him when he got dragged into the fairy world, and although he’s back, he’s sure it isn’t over yet.


	10. Chapter 10

"Good morning, sunshine,“ Dean chirps, beaming at Cas when he enters the kitchen. "Care for some coffee?“

"No, thank you,“ Cas says, his tone somber. "I’m looking for Jack.“

"He wolfed down his cereal and went straight back to reading,“ Sam answers instead of Dean.

Cas nods as if he already suspected that much and leaves the kitchen. Sam clears his throat, and Dean ignores it, knowing full well that Sam wants his attention. Over the last few days, Sam has watched Dean closely, always with an air of disapproval and Dean has no intention of finding out what his problem is. He gets to his feet, and Sam quickly makes his move. 

"You should be careful with him,“ he says, and when Dean hesitates, he adds, "Cas, I mean.“

"Here we go,“ Dean sighs and falls back onto his chair. "Enlighten me, what have I done now?“

Sam’s face tells him that he doesn’t care for Dean’s tone, but Sam explains himself nonetheless, "You constantly offer him food and drinks, going out of your way to get him what he wants. Yesterday, you drove over an hour for burgers. And then you keep giving him your clothes although fairies probably don’t have to change at all.“

Dean stares at Sam with his mouth open. There are a lot of wrongdoings that he could accuse him of, but this? "Since when is hospitality a crime? And you do the same with Jack.“

"Oh, no no no,“ Sam says, shaking his head so violently that his hair falls into his face. He brushes it back and focuses on Dean as if giving a little child a lecture. "I give Jack options to care for himself. What you’re doing goes way beyond that. Sometimes I fear you might start feeding Cas.“

"What’s that supposed to mean?“ Dean grunts.

"You have to know that fairies are different from us. Bringing someone food, giving them clothes, or inviting them into your space like you do when you’re having a movie night in your room, these are all signs of courtship,“ Sam explains. "Fairies only do that if they want to have the other one as their mate.“

Dean didn’t know that. All these things just feel natural to him. Still, he hates it when Sam acts like he’s an idiot. And Cas is a fairy, after all, he knows all of this and hasn’t called Dean out on it. Just to fuck with Sam, Dean daringly raises his brows. "So?“

Sam almost tips over his cup of coffee and his face flushes while he hastily stumbles through his next words. "I didn’t say- I mean, it’s up to you, if that’s what you want. I just wanted you to be informed about-"

"I don’t want to court Cas!“ Dean interrupts him and although something in his stomach snaps, he keeps talking with conviction. "The dude got kicked out of his homeland and was almost killed for trying to be a good father. I’m just showing him a good time.“

Sam rolls his eyes. "I know that Dean, but fairies have different rules. What you’re doing compares to Cas letting you groom his wings. It’s very intimate. Like a mating dance for animals.“

Dean spits his coffee, and Sam claps his back, but has a sour look on his face. "Look, it’s up to you, but I thought you should know what you’re doing. If you want to be a good friend to Cas, you shouldn’t give him the wrong signals.“

Although Dean is still reeling for air, Sam storms out of the kitchen and leaves Dean behind with a thousand questions. If all of this really means more to fairies, then why is Cas just accepting it? Is it possible that he doesn’t want to offend Dean? And what about his wings? Without magic, he didn’t have a chance to hide them and letting Dean touch them was necessary to patch Cas up, but after that? Cas asked Dean to lie down on his wing and put the other one around him. What does that mean according to Sam’s books?

Dean’s head swims, and he walks over to the cupboard to get an extra ingredient for his coffee. Sam wouldn’t approve of that either, but Dean needs something to settle his stomach. Thinking about Cas makes his heart speed up, and a knot is forming in his chest. He feels iller by the second and retreats into his room to put his headphones on, shutting out the rest of the world with blaring music. It works so well that Dean falls asleep for a while and nobody bothers him until the evening. 

After a quiet knock, the door opens, and Cas peeks inside. “Dean? Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” Dean is still drowsy from sleep but tries to sit up. Cas puts a small tray down on Dean’s bedside table and watches the bowl on it with a weird expression while sitting down on the side of the bed.

“Sam said you felt a little ill and this should help.”

Cas’ tone indicates that he doubts Sam’s words and Dean leans over to check the bowl. He has no idea how Sam even knows that he’s not feeling well, but that gives him an alibi to stay in his room. “It’s soup. People tend to eat it when they’re sick.”

“Why?”

The question comes out so honestly confused that Dean laughs. “Believe me, I’d prefer a burger, but human bodies don’t work that way. When you’re sick, soup is much better for the stomach.”

“I can just heal you,” Cas says, already lifting his hand but Dean brushes it aside.

“No,” he blurts out, way more forceful than he intended, and quickly comes up with an excuse when Cas watches him in confusion. “Save your magic. We don’t know how quickly you can get it back in here. I’ll just need some rest. It’s alright.”

“I’ll let you rest then,” Cas says, but when he’s about to get up, Dean reaches for his arm to hold him back.

“Are you alright? You look like something’s bothering you,” Dean asks, fearing that Sam might be right and Cas might not like what Dean is doing. 

Cas’ eyes wander to the door as if he rather wants to run than sit here and talk but stays and sinks deeper into the mattress with a sigh. “Chuck wanted me to take care of Jack, and he’s the most important thing in my life, but I can’t stop thinking about our people. Lucifer is no king, he’s a tyrant, and I fear he’ll destroy our world if we do nothing.”

“You want to go back,” Dean says, the knot in his chest getting tighter.

“Me going back won’t help. It needs to be Jack. He’s the heir to the throne.”

Cas’ expression is full of pain and Dean has no trouble imagining how he feels. “But you don’t want to risk his life. I get it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Cas says, his voice barely a whisper.

Dean wants to tell him to stay, to hide from everyone who wants to do him harm, but that would be selfish and wrong. "You’ve barely managed to stay in this bunker for one day, Cas. Since then, you’ve been out there staring at the sky for hours every night. They might not find you here, but staying here, you’d die anyway.“

Judging by Cas‘ face, Dean hit the nail right on the head. "But Jack-"

"Is young,“ Dean interrupts him. "Our world is exciting for him. That doesn’t mean he won’t get homesick soon. I’d say you should talk to him.“

"I fear if I do that, he might want to fight, and I’m not sure I can protect him. He’s powerful, but Lucifer is wicked and smart. I don’t think Jack has a chance.“

Dean thinks about everything Cas told him, and about his own life growing up. "You know, it sucks when life keeps throwing shit at you, but maybe that’s why Chuck wanted you to care for Jack. It’s not about you protecting him, it’s about you teaching him to protect himself. He’s supposed to become a king. You can be with him all the way, but one day he has to stand on his own.“

"That’s very wise,“ Cas says, completely serious.

"I have my moments,“ Dean jokes, grabbing his bowl to hide his reddening face in it.

"I should let you rest,“ Cas says while getting up from the bed in a hurry, but before he leaves the room, he turns back to Dean. "I will talk to Jack. Thank you for the advice.“

Dean nods, pretending to have his mouth full, and he puts the bowl down when Cas closes the door. He feels even sicker than before. Of course, Cas wants to leave, and deep inside, Dean knew that all along. So why does it bother him now? It’s probably just Sam’s hogwash that threw him off, but Dean decided to listen to him. He doesn’t want to give Cas any wrong ideas, especially when the poor dude clearly has other problems.

If Cas and Jack want to go back, they need all the help they can get. Dean decides to call it an early night. He leans back to get the light, but his eyes fall on the spot that Cas just vacated. Something dark is lying there, and Dean can’t help but smile when he picks it up. It’s a feather, smooth to the touch, and with that intricate smell that Dean remembers from the night at the motel. 

Dean has no idea how Cas can lose a feather when he’s hiding his wings, but that’s a mystery that doesn’t need immediate solving. Instead, Dean turns off the light and puts the feather under his pillow, where he runs his fingers over it till he falls asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

It’s been four weeks since Cas had his big talk with Jack, and like he predicted, Jack wants to go home and take the throne back from Lucifer. When they relayed that to Sam and Dean, life in the bunker changed dramatically. Of course, the brothers offered to help, and they came up with a game plan.

Not completely selfless, Sam has talked to both Jack and Cas and collected as much information as possible about fairies, their world, and their magic, documenting everything he learned. As it turns out, killing a fairy in their realm is not easy, and Cas still doesn’t know how Lucifer managed to kill Chuck in the first place. That means that they, in turn, have to find a way to kill Lucifer, since it's unlikely that he will just give up the throne.

Despite Dean’s dislike for sitting still, he helps Sam to go through every book about fairies, weapons or any sort of charm that might help them while Cas does his best to train Jack, working on his magic.

Heeding Sam’s warning, Dean doesn't invite Cas to a Harry Potter marathon. Instead, each night he puts his headphones in and buries himself in more books.

That day, like every day for the past few weeks, they’re all sitting around in the bunker’s library, the tables laden with books, and the silence only broken by quiet coughs, the sound of paper while turning pages or a chair creaking when one of them moves. Until Sam lets out a shout. Jack topples off his chair while Cas and Dean jump to their feet, ready to fight.

“Sam, what is it?” Cas asks, and Dean looks around for an attacker.

“I think I found something,” Sam says, his voice breathless and eager. “Get this.”

Dean collects Jack from the ground on his way over to Sam and they all huddle around him and a book that seems to be a diary since all the pages are handwritten. Sam points at a picture of a weirdly shaped knife, it’s color reminding Dean of the sky in old sci-fi novels. “In around 1750, a meteorite fell near the temples of Prambanan in Java,” Sam explains. “One of the pieces was brought to a palace, and they keep it there as a sacred object, but it seems that some master swordsmiths used the same meteor to forge weapons, believing that they would have magical powers because of the celestial origin of the metal. Such a kris dagger could probably kill Lucifer.”

“Aside from all the blah blah, how do you know that?” Dean asks.

“Because the guy who wrote this actually killed a fairy,” Sam says, ignoring Dean’s jab at his love for detail. “I recognized his name from another diary I read. He got in trouble with fairies early in life and spend the rest of it trying to get rid of them. First, he wanted to appease them with compliments and offerings, you know, like cream, but when that didn’t work, he sought out more and more ways to hurt them, like iron.”

Jack startles, and Cas lets out a growl at the word that in turn disturbs Sam and Dean. “You gotta chill,” Dean says, side-eyeing Cas, who drops his gaze.

“My apologies.”

“But that won’t help us,” Jack says, and he looks at the picture of the dagger as if it’s about to attack him. “If this can kill Lucifer then Cas or I won’t be able to use it.”

Sam smiles broadly. “Good news, you’re not a real fairy.”

Jack and Cas both squint at him. “I don’t understand your definition of good news,” Cas says, and Dean rolls his eyes so hard, he fears they might get stuck in the top of his head.

“It will work because he’s half human, right?”

Sam nods at Dean. “We’ll probably need some spells, but I’m sure we can make it work. We’ll have a weapon that can kill Lucifer, but he or any other fairy won’t be able to turn it against you. If they try to use the dagger, they’ll only hurt themselves.”

“Awesome. Where is it?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know,” Sam says, but quickly corrects himself when he looks at the others. “Yet. I mean, this dude had one, I should be able to locate where it went. Give me a few minutes.”

 

* * *

 

It takes Sam more than just a couple of minutes, but after three days, he’s sure he found the kris. The guy who had it made to kill the fairy is called Mortimer Fry and, as far as Sam can tell, he was so proud of his achievement that he literally took the weapon to his grave.

Despite Jack’s protest, they agree that he should stay in the bunker with Sam while Dean and Cas go get the dagger. It‘s strange for Dean to be alone with Cas again after he's tried so hard to stay out of his way, but at least they can take the Impala this time. Cas uses the occasion to wear a suit and trench coat again. Dean had bought the clothes for him before Sam revealed that he shouldn’t do that, and Cas seems to think that it’s proper attire for a warrior on a mission. Although Sam isn’t with them, it feels like they’re heading out to solve a case, and Dean has to admit that, just like Cas, he didn’t like being cooped up in the bunker all that time.

Even better, Dean has his whole music collection with him this time. He hands Cas a cassette tape with a big smile. "Here, put that Baby in.“

Cas studies the tape murmuring to himself before he reads the words on it out loud, "Dean’s top 13 Zepp Traxx?“

His voice sounds unsure, especially with the last word, and it dawns on Dean that fairies are not used to reading English. "Exactly,“ Dean says. "Only the finest for your lovely ears. Come on, put it in!“

Cas leans forward to mimic what he saw Dean do with the other tapes, but he gives Dean a side glance as if he’s unsure of his sanity. Soon after, the music fills the inside of the Impala and Dean taps on the steering wheel in sync with the beat of the music.

"This is your favorite music?“ Cas asks, watching Dean’s hands.

"Yeah, I guess.“

"Do you listen to it every day?“

Dean wonders about Cas‘ sudden interest. "If I can manage it; yes. Why?“

"Just-" Cas stops himself and frowns deeply. "Nothing, I’m only interested in human customs.“

"You should have taken the chance to ask Sam while he was interrogating you,“ Dean jokes but Cas doesn’t smile. He still has his gaze fixed on Dean.

"I’m not interested in Sam,“ Cas says before turning his head and looking out of the window.

The words send a shiver down Dean’s spine, but he doesn’t dare to ask who or what Cas is interested in instead. They stay silent for the rest of the drive, and Cas doesn’t ask a question when Dean turns the tape around to listen to the other side.

Even before they reach the coordinates Sam gave them, they can see their destination up ahead. Up on a small hill towers a church with a high belltower, though it looks like it could cave in at any second. Dean parks safely away from it and they walk to the church. There’s a wooden sign on the wall next to the entrance, and while Cas looks up to the belltower, Dean reads it and gives Cas the gist of it. “Looks like this Mortimer guy actually built this church as well as being buried in the cemetery here.”

“Then let’s look for the weapon,” Cas says, leading the way around the church.

Dean follows him, and they check all the graves twice without finding a Mortimer or a Fry anywhere. "Are you sure the sign said that he’s buried here?“ Cas asks, looking at the tombstone of the last grave at the far end of the cemetery.

"Yes, I’m sure. And Sam said the same thing, he has to-" Dean doesn’t finish the sentence. He’s been looking away from the cemetery and spots a path that leads past a couple of trees. The beginning of the path is framed by a metal gate overgrown with weeds. "What’s that?“

He heads for the gate, Cas following at his heels. They walk along the path in silence, the only sounds are their footsteps on fallen leaves and Cas' deep breaths. It’s as if he wants to absorb every bit of nature around him.

After a minute, the trees open up into an extensive clearing and in the middle of it stands a mausoleum. It’s overgrown like the metal gate, and the stone looks corrosive and ill. "Guess old Mortimer had to compensate for something,“ Dean jokes.

Cas squints at him. "You think he’s in there?“

Pointing at the stoney gate of the mausoleum, Dean smiles. "I’m sure of it.“

They walk closer and study the stone. There are pictures engraved in it, showing a fight between a winged, ugly creature and an impressive, shining knight who defeats his enemy in the last picture by stabbing it with an oddly shaped dagger.

"If that is a fairy, then I wonder why I’ve never heard about this,“ Cas muses, his eyes resting on the winged creature.

"Probably because none of your people would like to admit that a human dude killed one of you,“ Dean says. He might not be a walking fairy encyclopedia like Sam, but even he knows that fairies are proud creatures who don’t like to be bested, especially not by humans.

Cas shows his agreement with a nod and reaches for the door, but then his arm comes to a rest inches away from it. "I don’t like this. Here’s fairy magic all around us, but it stops right before this door.“

Dean leans in, squinting at the pictures up close, and he can see that the story of Mortimer’s glory isn’t edged in the stone alone. The carved lines are coated with something. "Iron,“ he says, running his fingers over one of them.

"Fitting,“ Cas says, leaning away from the stone with disgust on his face. "Seems like Mortimer wanted to be sure that no fairy could get a hold of his remains.“

"Why?“ Dean asks, a sudden fear creeping up in his body. "What could they do to him when he’s already dead?“

He doesn’t like the expression on Cas‘ face, who ignores the question to nod to the door. "How are we going to open this when I can’t touch it?“

Dean runs his hand over the door, and the fear inside of him makes room for excitement. "I have a rocket launcher in the car.“

"A what?“

"It’ll get this open, believe me.“ Dean grins at Cas and hurries to the Impala. Sam always told him that it was foolish to even bring such a weapon along and always asked when they would ever need it. "Wait till you hear this, Sammy.“

When Dean comes back to Cas with the weapon, Cas walks around the clearing, waving his hands. "Wait before you do anything,“ he instructs Dean. "Let me reverse the protective magic first. I don’t know how it would react to a human weapon.“

Dean sets down the rocket launcher and walks over to the mausoleum, inspecting it. He has to find the best spot to shoot at. After all, they want to get in there, not wreck it.

"This should do,“ Cas announces and walks over to Dean. "You can-"

Loud crashing sounds come from the path. Trees break, falling to both sides. A second later, two huge figures stomp onto the clearing.

Over the years, Dean has made his peace with a lot of weird things that seemed impossible. Right now, he’s on a quest to gather a magic weapon to kill the evil fairy king for crying out loud. Still, looking up at the creatures, his brain refuses to believe that they are real.

In front of them tower two giants. Even Sam would appear tiny next to them. Their arms, legs, and chests are bare aside from thick, curly hair, and the only clothes they’re wearing are huge pieces of leathery flaps hanging from their hips.

"Please tell me you can see them, too,“ Dean says to Cas.

"I do,“ Cas assures him, his voice strained. "I fear it’s my fault they’re here.“

"What? How many enemies do you have? Who are they?“ Dean hisses.

"I don’t know, but I think that I just took away the magic that kept them at bay.“

Dean should have known. He can’t remember the last time anything was easy for him. As if they can read his thoughts, the two giants take a step closer.

"Siehe da,“ one of them says in an odd sing-song voice, "Eine kleine Fee. Wie nett von dir die lästigen Zauber zu entfernen.“

Despite the mild tone, the giant‘s words sound harsh to Dean’s ears. To his surprise, Cas answers in the same language, "Ich hab es nicht für euch getan.“

The giant smiles, showing huge, yellow teeth. He looks like he would love to continue their conversation but the other giant steps forward, his face as far away from a smile as possible. "Geh zur Seite. Das Grab gehört uns.“

Cas shakes his had with determination on his face, and when the two giants share a look, Dean whispers to Cas. "What kind of crazy giant language are you guys using?“

"It’s German,“ Cas says, his tone indicating that he’s confused by Dean’s ignorance. He probably assumes that all humans know each other’s languages.

“Alright. Ask them about their loincloths,” Dean whispers.

“Dean,” Cas grunts in an exasperated tone.

Dean shrugs his shoulders. “Fine, what are they saying?”

“They know I’m a fairy and they say it’s their grave,” Cas translates and he keeps his head turned to listen in on their conversation.

“Cicius möchte noch ein bisschen Spaß mit ihnen haben bevor wir sie töten,” the first giant says but the other one shakes his head.

“Eflog hat lange genug gewartet,” he says. “Wir töten sie und dann öffnen wir das Grab. Ich nehme den Hübscheren.”

The two giants share another look before turning to Cas and Dean again. “Their names are Cicius and Eflog, and they’re discussing who to kill first,” Cas informs Dean in a rushed whisper.

“Oh, come on,” Dean grunts. “What do they even want with Mortimer?”

“Der Linke oder der Rechte?” Cicius asks. “Ich find sie beide hübsch.”

Eflog sighs deeply, and a gust of his smelly breath washes over Cas and Dean. “Ich nehme den Rechten.”

“Den findest du hübscher?”

Dean has still no idea what they’re saying, but he can tell that they’re arguing. Cas makes good use of that by stepping closer to Dean. His fairy blade slips into his hand from out of his sleeve. “Take this,” he whispers to Dean. “They’re about to attack.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asks, since the two giants are not even looking at them, but he still takes the blade.

It’s a good choice. Just seconds later, Eflog turns around to charge at them. Before he can reach them, Cas pushes Dean to the side, and his wings flare on both sides of him. He flaps them in rapid succession and takes off from the ground. When Eflog is near, Cas pushes both wings forward in a swift motion, and Dean can hear the gust of wind speeding at the giant, enforced with magic.

Eflog falls over like a tree, and the ground shakes. “Die kleine Fee will spielen,” Cicius screeches in his high voice and rips out a tree next to him, swinging it like a fly swatter. Dean barely manages to roll around to avoid the tree and earth and small stones rain down on him.

Cicius lifts up the tree again, and Dean is sure he’s done for, but Cas darts over to him and takes the fairy blade from the ground. Before Cicius can bring down his improvised bludgeon, Cas throws the blade and hits the giant right in his left eye. Cicius sways for a moment, and Dean feels Cas’ hands grabbing his arms. He lifts Dean up and pushes them both aside with another beat of his wings.

A second later, Cicius falls forward with a loud thud, filling the space that Dean and Cas just left. Dean almost allows himself to cheer, but Eflog is back on his feet, and without warning, he grabs Cas and squeezes him in his fist. “Ich hasse Feen,” he grunts and even Dean understands what that means.

There’s a white glow all around Cas, and Dean guesses that he's using magic to shield himself from the force of the giant’s grip, but he doesn’t seem able to do anything else. Dean looks around, and his eyes fall on the rocket launcher. He’s tempted to just blast Eflog to pieces, but there’s a chance of hitting Cas. Instead, Dean runs over to Cicius and throws his whole weight against his head. It moves barely to the side, but it’s enough to get a grip on the fairy blade.

“Dein Freund hat dich allein gelassen,” Eflog laughs, and he throws Cas to the ground. Cas tries to get up but Eflog puts his foot on his chest, and his fingers reach for Cas’ wing. “Ich werde dir jede Feder einzeln ausreißen, du kleine Pest!”

Cas groans and Dean’s adrenaline kicks in. He has to do something fast before Eflog can crush Cas like an insect. With one hard tug, he gets the fairy blade free and runs over to Eflog. With as much force as Dean can muster, he slices into the giant’s Achilles heel. Eflog wavers and stumbles back, taking his foot off of Cas. When he puts it on the ground, Dean cuts him there as well. Eflog falls forward onto his knees with a scream, and his hand shoots forward, reaching for Cas, who struggles to get up.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Dean shouts. He starts running and leaps into the air with the blade above his head. With a cry, he brings it down onto Eflog’s neck, but the giant moves to the side and Dean lands on his shoulder. The air gets knocked out of him, and Eflog brushes him off with a scream. Dean rolls onto the ground, the blade falling from his hand.

Eflog turns to him on his knees, his face full of rage and lifts his enormous hand. “Dean!” Cas screams and something lands next to him with a loud thud.

Dean grabs the rocket launcher and fires without thinking. The rocket shoots straight at Eflog, hitting him square in the chest and with an explosion, he’s thrown back into the mausoleum. Bits of stone fly high up into the air, and Dean watches them as they fall down in an arc, heading straight for him. He lifts his arms in a feeble attempt to shield himself and seconds later, everything goes dark.

Dean waits for the pain with closed eyes, but the world is weirdly quiet, and all he can hear is shallow breathing. When Dean opens his eyes, it’s still almost entirely dark, but a little light crawls in, and he can make out the shapes around him.

Cas is leaning over Dean, his hands next to Dean’s face and his wings surrounding them like a cave. “Cas?” Dean whispers.

“You’re safe,” Cas gurgles and blood drips out of the corner of his mouth, before he falls to the side, his eyes closed.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean turns around and gets to his knees, coughing violently. The air is filled with smoke, and Dean’s ears are ringing from the explosion, but he ignores it and crawls closer to Cas. Holding a hand to his face, he makes sure that Cas is still breathing, but he doesn’t look good. 

Cas’ whole back and even his arms and legs are cut open in so many places that there’s blood everywhere. His feathers are ruffled, and parts of his wings look broken. For a second, Dean dares to hope that he’ll just have to drag Cas to the nearest trees and wait till Cas can heal himself, but then he carefully moves Cas’ wing and sees the full damage.

There are huge, black bruises between Cas’ wings and a piece of sharp stone is buried under his shoulder blade like a speer. Dean has no way of knowing how deep it goes, but blood is leaking out along its rim. Although fairies have more physical endurance than humans, Dean realizes with horror that this isn’t something Cas can heal by smelling a few flowers. They need help.

Dean gets out his phone to call Sam. It rings only twice, but to Dean, it feels like an eternity before he can hear Sam’s voice. “Hey, Dean, what’s up? Have you found Mortimer yet?”

“Cas is dying, Sam, I need help!” Dean shouts into his phone.

“What happened?”

There were two giants-” Dean says before Sam interrupts him.

“Giants?”

They’re losing time and how Cas got injured doesn’t matter, so Dean switches gears. “There’s a piece of stone lodged under his shoulder, and he’s bleeding from cuts all over his body. I need something, a spell, anything!”

Dean hears Sam shout for Jack and then hushed voices before Sam gets back on the phone. “Put us on speaker.” 

“Alright,” Dean gasps and puts down the phone next to Cas, wringing his now free hands. He needs something to do. “What now?”

“You have to take out everything that hurts his body,” Jack says, “or he won’t be able to heal.”

Dean hates that he has to talk to Cas’ son of all people, but he needs his fairy knowledge. “I don’t think I should do that. I’ve seen him after our fight with the other fairies. This is worse. He’s bleeding a lot already, and if I pull this out, there’s no way he can heal himself quickly enough. There are only a few trees around.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and Dean’s heart beats even faster. “Guys!”

“There might be a way,” Sam says. “Human souls are pure energy, pretty similar to the magic fairies use. That’s why they tend to kidnap us. You could give Cas that energy.”

“Alright, how?” Dean asks eagerly.

“It’s dangerous, Dean. If he takes too much, your soul just ceases to exist. You should-”

“This is my fault, alright? I need him to survive. Just tell me how.”

Sam sighs. “There’s a spell, but he needs to be conscious, so he can actually take the energy from you.”

“I can wake him up,” Jack says.

Dean looks down at Cas, and he can’t see how he could possibly wake him up, even while being right next to him. How does Jack think that he can do it? “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I can do it,” Jack repeats, and Dean has never heard him so confident before.

“Sammy, you got the spell?” 

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Dean says, brushing his arm over his sweaty forehead. “I’ll pull this thing out, and when I tell you, you wake him up. Ready, Jack?”

“Ready.”

Dean grabs the stone, trying to avoid the blood so he won’t lose his grip, and as gently as possible, he pulls until the stone glides out of the wound. “Now Jack,” he orders, throwing the rock away.

“Castiel, wake up!” Jack says, and although he doesn’t raise his voice, the hairs on Dean’s neck stand up. There’s a force behind Jack’s tone that makes him want to stay awake forever.

Cas stirs with a grunt, his eyelids moving, but he doesn’t manage to look at Dean. “It worked! Sam, the spell!”

Sam reads out the words and Dean repeats after him, his voice loud and clear. At the end of it, something seems to shift inside of him, but nothing else happens. “It didn’t work. Nothing’s happening,” Dean screams at the phone.

“You said it perfectly,” Sam assures him. “But he needs to take the energy from you.”

Dean moves closer to Cas and carefully turns him around before taking his face into his hands. “You hear that, Cas? You need to take my soul. Come on, heal yourself.”

Still, nothing happens, and panic takes hold of Dean’s heart. This can’t be it. Cas can’t die. “Come on, you stupid fairy. Take my soul!”

Despite trying to be gentle, Dean’s growing fear makes him shake Cas, and he finally opens his eyes. They’re as blue as ever, but there’s no fight in them. With a slight smile on his lips, he slowly shakes his head, before closing his eyes again. 

Dean’s fear turns into anger when he understands that Cas isn’t healing himself on purpose. He shakes Cas again, this time a lot less careful. “No way. You can’t save my life twice and then just check out without giving me a chance to pay you back. And Jack needs you!” 

Cas’ face twitches but nothing else happens. Dean hates that he seems to trust him and Sam enough to leave Jack with them. What else can he possibly say when even Cas’ son is not enough reason to take the risk? 

Something deep inside Dean howls. He can’t bear the thought of losing Cas. Pictures of the last few weeks rush through his mind. Cas tilting his head like a puppy when he doesn’t understand something. The two of them watching a movie together with their shoulders touching when they sit next to each other on Dean’s bed. Both of them sitting quietly at the breakfast table, Cas respecting that Dean needs silence until he finishes his first coffee. 

Dean thinks about Cas’ smile, Cas’ voice, the way Cas looks at him, and above all, Dean’s mind is full of unspoken words, things that he should have told Cas when he still had the chance. Dean tells himself that it’s not too late. Cas is still here, and Dean won’t let him go. "I’ll call you back, don’t worry,“ he says into the phone and ends the call. 

He can’t have Sam and Jack there; Dean needs to be alone with Cas. He carefully runs his hand through Cas‘ messed up hair, building up the courage. "Listen to me, you stubborn son of a bitch, you will take my soul, and you will come back. You’ve been eating my food and wearing my clothes, and you’ve never told me what that means for fairies. Hell, you let me sleep on your wings. I don’t know what this is, but it is something, and I won’t let it end here.“

Dean stares at Cas, waiting for a reaction. Cas groans and his lips part, but he can’t speak, his breathing weak. Dean caresses Cas‘ cheek while his own face grows hot, a solemn tear making its way down his cheek, dying on his lips. "You can’t go yet. There’s so much more I need to show you. I need you, Cas, I need you.“

In a desperate attempt to get Cas out of his stupor, Dean leans in and kisses him, wishing that he can make Cas want this as much as he does. A second passes then Cas comes to life. He grabs Dean’s arms, and Dean feels the mark burn hot under his shirt. Whatever shifted inside of him goes into motion, as if he opened a door inside his chest. 

At first, it’s warm with a slight burn, like taking a shot of whiskey, but the longer Cas clings to him, the colder Dean feels. He’s trying to hold Cas, but his strength leaves him, his arms suddenly heavy. Dean’s heart beats slower, and the world around him becomes dull, his senses no longer able to comprehend the world around him.

Deep inside, Dean knows that he’s dying, the energy of his soul almost completely drained, but he doesn’t regret what he did. What matters is that Cas gets to live on. Dean just wishes he could have been there and live that second chance with him.

Strong fingers dig deep into Dean’s arm, and Cas falls back on the ground, breaking their connection. To Dean, it feels like he’s been in stand by mode and now someone’s pushed the power button. The world comes back to him, loud and colorful and the cold disappears from his body. 

Dean takes a few deep breaths and looks down at Cas. His eyes are closed, but there are no more wounds on his body. Even his clothes are no longer torn, and his face has a healthy color. Dean carefully shakes him by the shoulder, and Cas opens his eyes and sits up. “Dean?” he asks, watching him in confusion.

Happiness erupts in Dean’s chest, and he grabs Cas and hugs him so hard that his own ribs make an unhealthy sound. Cas doesn’t hug him back. Instead, he looks bewildered, glancing at Dean and then around the clearing. “What happened?”

“I blasted the giant dick to pieces and accidentally the crypt with him,” Dean explains, with a completely unfitting grin on his face. “And when the rubble came down, you had to be a hero and shield me.”

Cas looks down on himself and moves his wings. “But I’m fine. I’ve never felt so full of energy in-” He doesn’t finish the sentence but stares at Dean with wide eyes. “What did you do?”

“You were dying, so I set you up with some soul juice,” Dean says, as if it cost him as little as a bandaid.

“You-” Cas mouth stands open, and he keeps staring at Dean. Dean has never seen him so out of it. “But the bond- You shouldn’t have- I never would have asked you to make the bond.”

“What bond?”

At the question, Cas looks even more alarmed. “Dean, you can’t just share your soul and think that there won’t be consequences. That’s old magic. Giving me your soul ties us together forever. It’s a profound bond, there’s nothing stronger than that.”

Dean knows that what Cas tells him should concern him, but he doesn’t really care. In fact, if what Cas says is true, then Dean doesn’t mind. Cas is back, and they have a second chance; that’s what matters. “I could have done worse,” he jokes. When Cas keeps staring at him as if he has two heads, he waves his hand dismissively. “It’s alright, Cas. I knew what I was doing, and I don’t regret it one bit. It’s good to have you back.”

He quickly runs his hand over Cas’ cheek. Cas frowns at him and tilts his head back a little. Dean knows he should give him time to process what happened, but it still stings that Cas reacts like this after Dean’s confession and the kiss. Unless…

“What do you even remember?” he asks.

Cas lifts his hand to run it over the cheek that Dean touched and closes his eyes for a moment. “I remember what you just said. You shot Eflog, the mausoleum exploded, and when the pieces of it came down, I flew over to you. And then, nothing.”

Nothing. Dean’s heart cramps, as if a hand is twisting it from inside. “I have to call Sam and Jack,” he says, his voice mechanical.

Cas nods and gets to his feet. “I’ll see if I can find the kris. That’s what we’re here for after all.”

While he walks over to the mausoleum and begins to clean the rubble away, Dean lets Sam and Jack know that Cas is okay, keeping any information about a profound bond to himself, hoping that Sam doesn’t know. When he’s done, he steels himself and walks over to Cas. “Anything?”

Cas is already inside the crypt, hiding his wings to fit inside it, and standing next to an open stone coffin. “There’s no iron in here, so I was able to open this, but I can’t take the weapon.”

Dean peaks inside the coffin. It’s just another skeleton, something he’s seen way too many times. Just another case. He reaches inside and takes the dagger from Mortimer’s bony hands, breaking off his fingers. “We should salt and burn him,” he says. “Just in case.”

Cas nods and Dean pulls out a small rag that he usually uses to clean his hands after fumbling around on his car. He wraps up the dagger, and they leave. 

Half an hour later, they stand in between two fires. Mortimer’s remains burn in his coffin while Cicius and Eflog make for a disgusting bonfire right next to them. “Let’s go,” Dean says when the smell of burning flesh hits him.

They make their way back to the car in silence. Dean keeps asking himself how to handle the fact that Cas knows nothing about his feelings and Cas stares into the ground, brooding over something of his own. Dean puts the rocket launcher back into the trunk and wonders if he’ll ever use it again. He definitely thought it would be more fun.

When Dean starts the car, Cas pulls out his box of cassette tapes from under the seat and puts in another tape. He even forwards it to a specific song, and Dean stares at him in disbelief. “How did you know?”

“You’re longing to hear this right now,” Cas says. “I can feel it.”

“But how?”

“I told you, Dean. It’s a profound bond,” Cas says. He barely looks at Dean but out of the window instead. “You will be able to feel things about me, too.”

“Awesome!” The word shoots out of Dean, and when Cas looks over to him, Dean grins. “Come on, it’s not that bad. I don’t mind having a bond with you.”

It’s the only thing he can muster to say, but it’s enough. Cas gives him a soft smile. “I don’t mind it either.”

Dean’s heart almost leaps out of his chest, and he puts his foot down on the gas pedal, speeding away. Giants are not so bad, and fairies can be great. Those fairy tale creatures are beginning to grow on him.


	13. Chapter 13

Although they have the kris now, it still takes Sam some time to research the materials and spells he’ll need to turn it into a weapon for Jack. Meanwhile, Cas continues to train Jack, and Dean lets himself go completely into domestic mode. What happened to Cas made him realize that distance is the last thing he needs and he doesn’t care anymore about what Sam says.

In the weeks after they get the weapon, Dean goes back to pampering Cas. Of course, he cooks for all of them, but he usually goes for the things that Cas likes or wants to try. When they all watch movies together, Dean votes for the ones Cas wants to see. He washes Cas’ clothes and insists on giving him his until his own are dry. All the while, he ignores it when Sam gives him a weird look, and whenever he gets a smile or kind word from Cas, he doubles his efforts.

Dean busies himself into a sort of bliss and buries the fact that they’re working on a plan that will lead to Jack and Cas going back into enemy territory deep in the darkest corners of his mind. He’s not happy when Sam stops him during a cleaning spree and waves him over. “Hey, I think I’ve got it. Where are Cas and Jack?”

“Outside,” Dean says. “Working on Jack’s magic.”

He’s not sure what that means, but Jack and Cas have been outside every day since Cas declared that the bunker is too confined for their practice.

“I want to see if this works. Can you get them?” Sam asks, not even looking up from his book. 

For a moment, Dean wants to ask since when he’s the butler, but since he’s still carrying a feather duster after cleaning his room, he might not like Sam’s answer. “Sure, I’ll get them.”

Dean puts away his cleaning supplies and heads upstairs. Outside, a gentle breeze dances around him, and the sun warms his face. He relishes in the feeling for a moment before looking around. He can see two figures in between some nearby trees, so he walks over to them, regretting instantly that he never came up here before while Cas was training Jack.

Dean thought that they might be talking about magic, lying in the grass and maybe casting some spells. He did not imagine this. Jack and Cas both wear only their pants, and they aren’t hiding their wings. Compared to Jack’s smaller frame, Cas looks ridiculously muscular. Jack’s wings are golden with specks of silver, glistening in the sun like the chrome on the Impala. And while Dean has already seen Cas’ wings, he can’t stop staring at them, marveling at how magnificent they are.

The two fairies barely touch the ground, jumping and flying around each other. Their fairy blades clash when they are near, and when they move apart colorful spheres and lighting bolts of magic fly through the air. Cas stays in one spot for just a moment, and Jack seizes his chance. He dashes forward and brings his blade up to Cas’ chest, but then Cas disappears into smoke. When it clears, he’s behind Jack, holding his own blade to Jack’s throat. 

“What did I tell you?” Cas asks, lowering his blade and releasing Jack. 

Jack’s wings droop, and he looks down, disappointed in himself. “Don’t get careless by thinking that your enemy made a mistake,” he mumbles.

“Then why did you attack me?”

“You also told me to seize opportunities when they present themselves,” Jack says defiantly. 

“And you should, but you still have to be prepared in case your enemy is only trying to bait you.”

Jack nods solemnly. “Alright. Should we go again?”

“Let’s ask Dean what he wants first,” Cas says and turns to Dean. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean doesn’t know if it’s just a fairy thing or their bond that lets Cas sense that he’s here, but he walks over to them with a smile. “Hey, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but Sam thinks he might be done with the weapon.”

His eyes travel from one to the other, and as soon as he looks at Jack, Jack’s wings disappear as if he feels the need to cover up, which is weird for a man who spent his first hours in the human world butt naked. Jack looks over to Cas, whose wings are still visible, and his eagerness is audible in his voice. “Can I go take a look?”

“Of course,” Cas says. Jack grabs his shirt and sprints to the entrance of the bunker.

Dean is suddenly overwhelmed by being alone with Cas, and the fairy’s current appearance doesn’t help. Trying to make conversation, he points at Cas’ wings. “Is that normal?”

“A half-naked person with a wingspan wider than most human houses? In your world probably not,” Cas deadpans, and Dean stares at him. He’s not sure if Cas finally understands the concepts of jokes or if he’s sassing him. 

Dean opts to ignore that question for now. “I mean your feathers. They seem out of order.”

“No, that’s not normal,” Cas sighs and moves his wings in different directions. “I tried to sort them all out, but I can’t reach everywhere. It doesn’t hinder me in any way, but it’s annoying.”

“Do you want me to-” Dean begins, but stops himself when he remembers what Sam said about grooming a fairy’s wings. 

“What?” Cas asks. He takes his shirt from the ground, and his wings begin to disappear.

“I could straighten them out for you,” Dean blurts out and feels like he just suggested to be friends with benefits.

Cas looks at him as if he did just that. His wings flicker, going back and forth between being visible and disappearing again. “I guess you could,” he says after a long pause, and his voice sounds a little shaky. “If you want to.”

“Sure,” Dean says, trying to keep his tone light. “We wouldn’t want you to run around like a ruffed up pidgeon that lost a fight against a street cat.”

Cas squints at him, which usually means that he didn’t understand a word Dean said, but his wings become fully visible again. He settles down on the ground and spreads them as wide as possible. Dean moves behind him and goes down on his knees.

"I’ll start on the left,“ he announces, but doesn’t dare to touch Cas right away. Instead, he watches Cas‘ bare skin all around his wings and remembers the last time he looked there. "Is it all healed?“

"Yes. Human souls are very powerful,“ Cas says, and after a moment he sighs. "I wish I could remember. From what I’ve heard from other fairies, it’s quite the experience to see or touch one.“

Dean’s hand rises to his lips, also wishing that Cas could remember, but he brushes off the thought. He’s determined to enjoy every moment with Cas and not dwell on anything else. When he places his hand on the curve of Cas‘ wing, Cas leans back into the touch, and Dean feels as if he’s left reality. 

The world becomes quiet around them, the air fresh and the sun warm. Dean breathes in the calming scent of Cas‘ wings as he runs his fingers through the soft feathers. He has no idea how long it takes, but he has to change position a few times to reach everywhere. When he’s done with the back of both wings, he moves to the front.

When he’s almost done, he ends up right in front of Cas, who curled his wings inward so that they surround them. More than once, he touches Cas‘ body to move him into a different position to better reach certain spots of his feathers, and Cas never complains. He keeps watching Dean out of his shining eyes, and it’s not uncomfortable but soothing to Dean. He’s taking care of Cas and with his steady glance, Cas thanks him for it without needing words.

Dean is busy with a particularly tangled spot of feathers when someone clears their throat behind them. Jack is staring at them in wonder and confusion and just stands there until Cas speaks to him. "Yes, Jack?“

"Sam sent me,“ he says, his eyes falling on Dean’s hand still curled up in Cas‘ feathers. Dean has the urge to pull it away, but Cas reaches down and puts his own hand over Dean’s, keeping it there. 

Jack’s eyes light up as if he’s beginning to understand something fundamentally important. His tone is full of excitement when he speaks again. "Sam thinks that he’ll be able to do the last spell. You should come.“

"We’ll be right there,“ Cas says, and when Jack hurries off, he takes his hand away from Dean’s.

Hating to leave a job unfinished, Dean untangles the last of Cas‘ feathers before lightly patting the wing. "Alright, all done.“

Cas spreads his wings wide again and smiles. "That’s better. Those knots bothered me more than I thought.“

"Anytime.“ It’s just a phrase anybody would use, but from Cas‘ gaze, Dean can tell that he knows what Dean wants to say. I’d be happy to do it again, and again. 

Cas‘ lips carve into a rare wide smile that makes Dean’s heart feel as if it’s about to leap out of his chest. "Thank you, Dean,“ he says in the softest voice and leans forward to place a feathery kiss onto Dean’s cheek.

Although Dean feels like he’s melting into a puddle, he jumps to his feet. Otherwise, he might grab Cas and kiss him stupid. "We shouldn’t keep them waiting,“ he blurts out and takes a step back. "Are you coming?“

Cas still has this soft aura about him and looks up to Dean, the sun shining around his head like a halo. "Of course.“

@@@@@

"Alright, I’m almost done,“ Sam says, looking down into a glass bowl that’s filled with various herbs. "There’s one last ingredient I need, though. Fairy blood.“

"Why didn’t you say so? I can-" Jack begins, but Sam stops him. 

"I know, but the book speaks explicitly about pure fairy blood. The older, the better,“ Sam explains before giving Jack an apologetic smile. "Sorry.“

Before he can say anything else, Cas raises his arm and holds a small bottle filled with a red liquid out to Sam who glances over to Dean as if to ask permission.

Dean is reminded of the last time he saw Cas‘ blood and doesn’t like the thought of being complicit in forging this weapon, but he knows that there’s no way around it. Cas won’t turn back now and the best Dean can do is show him that he’ll go with him all the way. He gives Sam a sharp nod. Sam takes the bottle to pour the blood into the bowl while muttering a spell. 

Sam lights a match and throws it into the bowl. With a loud crack, the contents burst into flames and when they subside only a shiny blue liquid is left. Sam pours it over the the kris, coating the blade with the spell, and the liquid disappears as if the dagger is absorbing it.

"That should be it,“ Sam says, but he doesn’t look as confident as Dean would like.

He doesn’t like the thought of them attacking Lucifer with a useless weapon. "How do we know if it works?“

"Um, well, for starters, Jack should be able to hold it,“ Sam says and holds the dagger out to Jack.

Cas raises his hand to Jack’s shoulder but doesn’t touch him, and Dean senses that he’s preparing to heal Jack if need be. Jack takes a look back at him for reassurance, and when Cas nods, he takes the dagger.

Nothing happens, and Sam leans down a bit to catch Jack’s eye. "And?“

"It’s alright,“ Jack says, sounding surprised. "I can feel the magic, but it doesn’t hurt. I don’t feel the iron at all.“

"Awesome,“ Dean cheers and Sam grins, but Cas eyes the dagger with distrust.

"We need to know that it works,“ he says, his voice dark. The last time Dean heard him like this, they were fighting the other fairies. "Cut me, Jack.“

Sam stretches out his arms to stop Jack while Dean grabs Cas and pulls him away. " No, are you crazy?!“

"I won’t put my son in front of Lucifer unless I’m sure this weapon works,“ Cas grunts and shakes off Dean’s hand. "Jack, do it.“

Jack looks around between the three of them, unsure what to do and Dean turns to Sam for support. "Tell him that he’s crazy!“

Sam bites his lip and studies the dagger. "He’s right, you know. There’s a chance the spell covers the iron so well that it can’t harm any fairy. We can’t be sure unless we test it.“

"Nobody is going to cut him,“ Dean bellows and reaches for the dagger, but Sam holds his arm.

"Look, I don’t like this either, but we need to be sure. If the dagger works as intended, you have to stab someone to kill them,“ Sam says, his voice certain. "A little cut won’t kill Cas.“

Dean’s insides are raging. All of what Sam is saying makes sense, but the fear of Cas getting hurt again overpowers any rational thought. "I don’t like this.“

He stares at Cas when a single thought makes its way to the forefront of Dean’s mind. With his thoughts alone, he tries to tell Cas to draw power from his soul again if he needs it, but Cas presses his lips together, declining Dean’s offer. They keep staring at each other, fighting a battle in their minds, unaware of the confused glances Jack and Sam share. 

Finally, Cas drops his gaze to the floor, and Dean nods to Jack. "Alright, do it. But be careful.“

Jack looks scared when he steps up to Cas, throwing a side glance at Dean, and with trembling hands, he moves the dagger along Cas‘ outstretched forearm. Although the cut is barely visible, Cas screams and hits the ground as if struck by lightning.

Dean drops to his knees next to him, grabbing his hand. "Cas!“ he screams, and something inside him shifts again. 

The cut on Cas‘ arm disappears, and he opens his eyes. With Dean’s help, he sits up and takes a few deep breaths. "It’s alright. I’m fine.“

Sam turns on the spot and lets out a deep sigh while running his hands through his hair and Jack puts the dagger down on the table, his face pale and shocked. 

Dean helps Cas to his feet and claps his shoulder. "Crazy son of a bitch,“ he snarls, but Cas actually smiles at him.

"It’s very potent,“ he says and turns his smile to Jack. "With this, we have a chance to defeat him.“

The color comes back to Jack’s face, and he smiles back at Cas. Dean claps his hands together, and the relief washing over him gives him the motivation to think ahead to their next steps. "Okay, so how do we get to Lucifer?“

"I already know of a place where it should be safe to cross. From there, we can make our way to the castle,“ Cas says. "There’s a good chance we’ll find people who are still loyal to Jack.“

"And what should we bring?“ Dean ask.

"What do you mean?“

"We can’t fight our way through with just one weapon between the four of us,“ Dean huffs, and Sam nods along.

"Will iron do or are there other things we can use to fight fairies?“ he asks.

"You’re coming with us?“ Jack asks in bewilderment, and a pained expression appears on Cas‘ face.

"No, Jack, they won’t,“ he says.

Dean and Sam turn to him, speaking at the same time, "What? Why not?“

"We've come this far already. Of course, we’re going to see this through,“ Sam adds when Dean just stares at Cas.

"That’s very kind of you, but you have to remain here.“

Dean’s insides turn to ice. Every time he thinks there’s some hope, reality comes crashing down on him with all its might. "What are you saying?“ he asks, his voice so dark that it frightens himself.

"There are rules to magic. The law of nature. You can’t just travel back and forth between our worlds at will. If you come with us, you won’t be able to come back.“

Sam leans back against the table behind him, and Dean feels betrayed by him. How can he give up so quickly? "Meg pulled me in,“ Dean argues. "And she didn’t seem to break a sweat.“

Cas’ face grows dark at the mention of her name. "There’s a reason why this is forbidden. It disturbs the balance. And as you might recall, she didn’t plan on bringing you back.“

"But you did,“ Dean insists.

He must have struck a nerve because Cas‘ voice gets a dangerous edge. "And at what cost? You still have a mark where I burnt your skin. And you woke up in a grave, remember? I destroyed a fairy circle out of desperation. In my world, I could be killed for that alone.“

 

“But you still want to go back there,” Dean says, turning it into an accusation.

“Of course. What else would I do?” Cas shouts back.

And there it is. While Dean is fighting so hard to be with Cas, Cas doesn’t see the point of staying in their world. It should feel like a punch. It should hurt. Instead, Dean feels empty, and everything goes quiet. His voice sounds shallow when he speaks again, the fire in it eradicated. “Yeah, it’s not like anything's keeping you here, right?”

They all stare at him, but Dean doesn’t want to argue anymore. He turns around and rushes out of the room.


	14. Chapter 14

Dean lies in the dark, his thoughts fixed on that day he woke up in the Impala and was sure that everything was just a dream. He prays that it’s not over yet. Dean is still dreaming, and when he wakes up, Cas will be there, and they can start over again.

A knock on the door startles him into a sitting position. "Yes?“

His voice is eager and hopeful; proof that he’s an even bigger idiot than he thought. When the door opens, a tall figure looms in the frame. "Can I come in?“

This time it feels like a punch. Of course, it’s Sam. "Suit yourself,“ Dean mumbles, and Sam walks inside. 

He doesn’t turn the light on but leaves the door ajar, setting the scene with a gloomy twilight that illustrates perfectly how Dean feels. When Sam sits down on the bed next to him, Dean falls back, crossing his arms. "What now?“ he asks.

It’s not right to be mad at Sam, but Dean’s anger has to go somewhere, and he can’t help himself. Sam only smiles at him, like the sweet bastard that he is, and even the half shadow can’t take away the warmth in his expression. "I’m not going to press this if you don’t want to talk, but I’m clearly missing something here.“

"Yeah?“

"After our last talk you kept your distance from Cas,“ Sam says. "Then he almost dies, and you go completely off the rails. I of all people know how much you care, but this goes way beyond that.“

Dean grunts. "Seems like you have me all figured out.“

"We get told again and again that the world needs us, and maybe it does, but you’re hurting, Dean. I love you, and I know that it kills me to lose you, but seeing you like this is worse,“ Sam says, his voice still calm but shaky. "If you want to go, if he means that much to you, then I’ll send you off with as many weapons as you three can carry and wish you good luck.“

Dean stares at Sam through the twilight, the smile still there, and knows that he means it. It’s the first time Dean even thinks about parting from his brother, and shame engulfs him. Then, Cas‘ last words run through his mind and Dean huffs. "Thanks, Sammy, but as always, I don’t think it matters much what we want.“

Sam’s smile fades, and he looks to the door. "I’ve read up on it, you know. About traveling between our worlds.“

"Of course you did,“ Dean sighs and runs his hands over his face.

Again, Sam doesn’t react to his mocking tone. "He could have died, you know. It takes tokens with enormous magical power or the energy of human souls to travel between our worlds. Going through the portal and bringing you with him with both of you alive – no idea how he pulled that off.“

"He only needed a human idiot to find his son. That’s it.“ 

Sam shakes his head, his resolve slowly fading away. "He could have just burnt your soul to get himself over here, and then grabbed any stranger to find his son. You’re not making sense, Dean.“

"I was a stranger to him, too,“ Dean shouts. "It doesn’t mean anything.“

Pressing his lips together, Sam takes a deep breath. "Don’t you get it? He thought you were worth saving even before he knew you- multiple times. Do you really think he suddenly doesn’t give a shit anymore?!“ Sam gets to his feet, leaving the question dangling in the air. 

"Where are you going?“ Dean asks.

"Talking to Jack. He’s a little confused. After seeing you grooming Cas‘ wings-" Sam stops, leaving a poignant pause. "He thought that the two of you were more than just friends. Guess I have to tell him that he won’t have a second father after all.“

@@@@@

Dean stands in front of the room he gave Cas when it became clear that he and Jack would have to stay in the bunker for a while. It seems like a century ago, just like everything good that happened between them. Dean’s hand raises to his cheek where Cas kissed him, but he still can’t bring himself to knock, no matter how much he longs to do so.

Instead, Cas opens the door from the inside. "Hello Dean,“ he says, not in the least surprised to find him here.

"Can I come in?“ Dean asks, his voice still empty and defeated. He’s not here for a happy ending. He only wants to confirm that Sam has no idea what he’s talking about.

Cas steps to the side. "Of course.“

He closes the door behind them, the room only dimly lit with candles. Dean brought them in here from all around the bunker when Cas mentioned in passing that he prefers the small lights over the bright one in the ceiling.

"When do you plan on going?“ Dean asks, getting right to it.

"Tomorrow.“

It should be another punch, but this blow disappears into the empty inside of Dean like all the others. "Good. We’ll help you get to the crossing point you mentioned. No need to let those bastards get you any sooner than they have to,“ Dean says, his tone cold. "Then we-"

"Dean,“ Cas says, his voice pleading and he puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

"It’s alright,“ Dean bluffs, shaking it off, but it is not. Cas‘ touch makes him feel again. He can’t have that.

"It’s my fault,“ Cas says. "All my life, I served others. I was just a soldier, and I didn’t exist to have anything for myself. And then you cared for me, so I didn’t stop you. I just-"

While Cas searches for words, the wall inside Dean crumbles. It’s like Cas is describing Dean’s life as well. "You wanted it to last. I get it.“

"I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to take advantage of your kindness,“ Cas says, looking down in shame.

"My kindness,“ Dean echoes. His brain seems filled with slosh, and it takes him forever to process Cas’ words. "You think I did all of this out of kindness?“

"That’s what you and your brother do, isn’t it? You help people,“ Cas says matter of factly.

What Cas is saying doesn’t make any sense, so Dean tries to get his facts straight. "Sam told me that what I did is usually how fairies court each other. You know? When they’re in love.“

"It is,“ Cas confirms, and Dean stares at him in bewilderment. Could it really be that Cas doesn’t get what Dean is saying?

"I don’t do that to everybody, no matter how much I want to help them,“ he clarifies.

"But you-?“ Cas keeps looking at him with a puzzled expression on his face, and Dean can see how he slowly but surely pieces things together. Then he frowns. "You really meant it?“

"Why do you think I threw a fit like that before?“ Dean shouts, but his heart feels lighter now. He feels the need to be clear this time. "I care about you, Cas. I don’t want you to go because I – I need you.“

Cas‘ eyes grow wide. "You said that before,“ he whispers. " I thought I imagined that.“

A small laugh breaks out of Dean over how ridiculous this is. "Jesus, we’re a couple of dumbasses.“

"I prefer clueless,“ Cas says with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Less dumb, less ass.“

A warm feeling swells up in Dean as if Cas is healing him again and it’s so powerful that it pushes him into action. He crosses the room and grabs Cas by the lapels of his trenchcoat to pull him in. Dean stops when their lips are only an inch apart to give Cas an out, but Cas leans forward to kiss Dean. It’s not feathery at all, but filled with determination and Cas holds on to Dean’s shirt for dear life.

Even when their lips part, they hold on to each other, their foreheads touching. "Tell me there’s a way,“ Dean pleads. "Tell me I can go with you.“

"I wish I could,“ Cas says, his fingers digging deeper into Dean’s skin.

"I can’t leave Sam behind,“ Dean says, his face growing hot when he’s close to tears. Only now does he appreciate what Sam said to him, but just like Cas has to go with Jack, Dean can’t leave. 

"I know,“ Cas says, and everything goes quiet around them.

They hold on to each other for a long time, and Dean’s not sure who started it, but they kiss again, and Dean knows that they need to be closer than this. They need to make this night count.

Dean kisses Cas feverishly, as if he has only moments to do so and instead of pulling Cas in with his coat, he pushes it down his shoulders. Cas helps him by pulling off his suit jacket as well, before attacking Dean’s flannel and dropping it to the floor. 

They meet again in the middle for more kisses and Dean fumbles with the buttons on Cas‘ shirt, regretting that he bought him so many clothes. When Dean finally peels Cas out of the last layer, he can’t get enough of running his hands over Cas‘ skin.

Dean has seen Cas like this and touched him before, but it was always to heal, to comfort. Now Dean wants for Cas to feel pleasure, and an egotistical part of Dean takes as much for himself as he gives. Cas‘ skin is smooth and warm, and Dean ventures sloppy kisses along Cas’ jawline and down his neck. 

Cas leans back, and Dean holds him in place, his fingers clawing down Cas‘ back, leaving red marks, almost as prominent as the one on Dean’s arm. Cas lets out a sigh when Dean’s hands make their way back up over his shoulder blades, and it reminds Dean of something he’s missing.

"Can you show them now?“ Dean asks, and it takes Cas a moment to look at him, as if coming out of a dream.

"What?“

"Your wings,“ Dean says, and he can’t hide the eagerness in his voice. "Can you show them to me?“

Cas looks to the ground, his voice thin when he speaks, almost apologetic. "I thought it would be more pleasurable for you if I hid them. I would seem more human.“

"Are you crazy?“ Dean says too loudly, startling Cas. He lowers his voice, pleading. "I’d love to see them, if you want to show me.“

Cas takes a deep breath and his wings appear. He can’t fully stretch them due to the size of the room, so he curls them inward, surrounding both of them with shiny blackness. Dean lifts his hand up and lets it linger until Cas gives him a small nod. “It’s alright.”

Dean runs his hand over the upper curve of the wing where it’s strongest before trailing off and playing with the smaller feathers underneath. “How does it feel?” he asks.

Cas takes a moment to come up with an answer. “I’m not sure, but I guess you could compare it to a backscratch or petting someone’s hair.”

As if to showcase what he means, he runs his hands through Dean’s hair before pulling him in for another kiss. Then he rests his arms on Dean’s shoulders and his fingers ghost over invisible trails along Dean’s neck. The soft touch gives Dean goosebumps, and while they still share some careful kisses, Dean returns the favor by trailing his fingers over Cas‘ feathers.

If they had more time, Dean would be happy to do just this for the rest of the night. Instead, his hands move from Cas‘ wings over his stomach and his fingertips tease Cas‘ hip bones. Cas shudders for a moment, before grabbing the hem of Dean’s shirt and pulling it up over Dean’s head. 

He takes his sweet time letting his eyes roam over Dean’s body, and the rising heat in his stomach makes Dean grab the top of Cas‘ pants to pull him closer. They keep kissing, eager and careless. As Dean opens Cas‘ pants, Cas reaches around his arms to do the same to him.

A little impatient, they pull off their shoes and pants on their own, and without warning, Cas‘ grabs Dean and pushes him onto the bed to crawl on top of him. Instead of focusing on Dean’s mouth, Cas covers his face with feathery kisses, from his forehead to his temple and down to his cheeks. 

Rubbing his face along Dean’s neck like a cat, Cas moves lower, and his lips trail along Dean’s collarbone down to his stomach, worshipping every inch of his skin. His hands follow. It’s only soft, warm touches at first, but then Dean’s skin prickles and goosebumps erupt all over his body. Dean can’t hold in a moan and he arches his back, not familiar with such an intense feeling. 

“Fuck, Cas. What are you doing?“ he gasps.

“I’m sorry,“ Cas whispers into the skin on Dean’s stomach. It’s my magic. I’ll try to keep it under control.“

“No!“ Dean protests, just like he did with Cas‘ wings. He grabs Cas shoulder to pull him up and look at him when he says this. 

Cas‘ brows are knitted together, and he bites his lip, nervous and unsure. Still, his eyes hold Dean like a precious treasure, and Dean can’t stop looking back at him. It’s been so long that he felt like this, if he ever has at all. With Cas over him, shadowing them both with his wings, he feels protected and wanted. For Cas, there’s only Dean, and he’s proved that over and over again.

“Cas,“ Dean says, his voice calm and heavy, I love you. You, with your magic and your wings. Don’t ever change.“

The smile that Cas gives him is lighthearted, and his eyes flare with his magic. “I love you, too.“

They kiss again, more desperate, the invisible wall between them shattered. Cas melts against Dean, their bodies hot and tingling with Cas‘ magic, and Dean arches his back again, eager to grind against Cas. 

“Dean,“ Cas sighs, burying his head against Dean’s neck. After taking a second to collect himself, he moves down Dean's body, leaving little bites in his wake, teasing Dean’s skin with his tongue.

Hitting Dean‘s sweet spots, Cas is no longer able to hold Dean down. He sits up, pushing Cas over. With Cas‘ wings in the way, it takes them a moment to change their position, but as soon as Cas is under Dean, with his wings reaching both walls of the room on either side, Dean goes on the offense.

He mimics Cas‘ biting and licking, satisfied when Cas‘ breathing speeds up. Reaching his chest, Dean teases Cas‘ nipples with his tongue. With a small cry, Cas holds on to Dean’s arms, sending hot waves of magic into his body. Maybe Dean should be worried if Cas can control his powers, but instead, he does his best to tickle more magic out of him.

With greedy kisses, he makes his way down to Cas‘ underwear and helps him out of it. For a second, he wonders if fairies are built differently than humans, but he finds a good, solid cock. Dean‘s own erection pressing hard against the fabric of his boxers, Dean gives Cas a little bit of release by palming his cock before he bends down, licking along Cas‘ length.

“Dean,“ Cas moans, his fingers clawing into the sheets while his wings curl. 

The longest feathers reach Dean, caressing his back, and longing to give Cas even more pleasure, Dean takes Cas into his mouth. His heart beats like crazy, but he levels his breathing to swallow Cas down. It gives him enormous satisfaction to have Cas wiggle under him with more moans and whispers of his name. 

Dean continues in a steady rhythm, sucking Cas in and bobbing his head, only stopping when Cas uses his wings to push Dean up. They share a look, and Dean knows that Cas is asking for more. He pulls down his boxers and crawls on top of Cas, straddling his hips and still grinding against him. 

“I want- want you,” Cas breathes in between kisses. “I want to be inside of you.“

Dean groans, caught between wanting this, but also reluctant to move. “We’d have to go to my room for that.“

“Why?“ Cas asks, nibbling at Dean’s jaw and running his hands down his shoulders.

“Lube,“ Dean says, having a hard time concentrating as Cas‘ fingertips tickle the small of his back. “Not so great without.“

“Lubricant?“ Cas guesses. Dean nods, but Cas doesn’t indicate if he understands. 

Instead, he occupies Dean with deep kisses. His hands wander even further down, ghosting along Dean’s ass with the prickling warmth of magic, and he begins teasing Dean’s hole. At first, Dean is too caught up in all the sensations to notice, but when he ruts against Cas, he slides onto Cas finger with ease.

Dean can feel the stretch, and it’s not unpleasant but warm and slick. “Neat trick,“ he breathes against Cas mouth.

Smiling, Cas adds another finger, watching Dean closely. “Does it feel alright?“

“More than alright,“ Dean moans, his hips never standing still. “But I need more of you.“

He reaches down to grab Cas‘ cock and runs his hands up and down until Cas growls, “Then take it already.“

Dean grins and gets in position to sink down onto Cas‘ cock. The magic helps with the rub, but Dean still takes his sweet time to get accustomed to Cas‘ girth. Their slower pace makes him return to Cas‘ lips, and they kiss lazily, barely moving at all.

Only over time, their desperation grows, and Dean sits up. He wants to watch Cas while he rides him, and Cas doesn’t take his eyes away from him for a second. Under such scrutiny, Dean gets more and more aroused. He lifts his ass up higher, falling down harder, moans trembling from his lips when Cas pushes deep inside of him over and over again.

Since Cas can barely reach Dean with his arms, he surrounds him with his wings. “You’re so beautiful like this, Dean,“ he gasps, adoration in his voice.

Dean shivers although the sweet words run down his body like honey. With a moan, he reaches for Cas‘ wings and takes fists full of feathers, holding on for dear life as his legs strain under his own weight. With the last of his strength, he keeps going, teasing Cas with quicker thrusts. 

Cas must sense how close Dean is, and he runs his hands up his legs. One hand grabs Dean‘s thigh while the other one closes around Dean’s cock. Cas doesn’t play around anymore, stroking him with purpose.

With Cas‘ magic flaring, their touches get more eager, and with frantic thrusts into Cas‘ hand, Dean pushes himself over the edge. He comes all over the both of them, but neither of them cares.

Dean falls over onto Cas, and surrounded by his wings, they keep kissing and pushing until Cas‘ hips stutter and his body stiffens as he comes deep inside of Dean.

They touch their foreheads together, only breathing for a long time, until Dean runs his hand over Cas‘ chest. “You weren’t lying. No sweat at all.“

“Told you so.“

Dean grins, taking Cas‘ answer as a challenge. “Maybe I’ll get you with round two. Ready?“

Cas answers by hugging Dean. Then he laughs. A warm, careless laugh. Dean will never forget the sound of it.


	15. Chapter 15

Everything moves too fast. The last moments with Cas in Dean’s arms fly past. They get ready in a rush, the car speeds along the road, as they run to the fairy circle that Cas deemed as a safe place to cross. 

It’s the middle of the day when they reach it, but for Dean, it’s still too early. All the way, he holds onto Cas‘ hand, even lets Sam drive to sit next to Cas in the back of the Impala, but it’s still not enough. Dean keeps racking his brain for a solution, another way, but then he looks into the blue of Cas‘ eyes and knows that there’s nothing he can do. 

The sun shines mockingly down on them, the grass is green, and birds chirp up ahead. And then it’s time. Cas takes Dean’s face into his hands and kisses him. It’s not only a goodbye, but an apology and Dean takes a deep, steeling breath. "I love you,“ he says, drowning in blue.

With a soft smile, Cas runs his fingers over Dean’s cheeks. "I know.“

Dean’s heart leaps one last time, but stands still when Cas retreats to step into the fairy circle. Everything goes quiet, Cas‘ voice the only sound. "Come on, Jack.“

A buzzing fills the air, and the lights grow brighter. Any moment, Cas is going to disappear. Dean has to restrain himself from joining him the circle. Then Jack turns around and runs over to Dean. 

"Jack?“ Cas shouts, taking a step forward, but he doesn’t leave the circle. "Come back! There’s no time.“

For a moment that seems to go on forever, Jack stares searchingly into Dean’s eyes. It reminds him so much of Cas that Dean wonders if they’re really not father and son. Then Jack smiles, and reaches for Dean’s hand to push something into his palm. 

"Jack,“ Cas shouts again when the light around him becomes even brighter. 

Jack rushes back to the circle, and Cas grabs his arm, as if to make sure that he won’t leave again, before looking back to Dean. Their eyes meet, and Dean smiles despite feeling like hell, and he only looks away when the light becomes too bright.

The sounds around them come back, and the circle is empty. Dean falls to his knees, wishing that the ground will swallow him whole.


	16. Chapter 16

The bunker’s door falls shut behind Dean with a loud crash, and when he trots down the stairs, he sees Sam rushing into the entrance hall. “Dean, is that you?”

“You’re expecting somebody else?” 

“Oh my god, are you alright?” Sam shouts, his eyes wandering down Dean’s body in shock.

Dean looks down as well to figure out what Sam’s problem is. It's probably the fact that Dean’s whole front is covered in blood. “It’s not mine,’ he says and brushes past Sam who follows him on the spot.

“What the hell did you hunt? A blood bank?”

“The case you sent me on was nothing more than a ghost, but I came across a nest of vamps on the way, so I made a quick pitstop,” Dean explains. 

“A nest? How many were there?” Sam follows Dean down the hallway.

“15? 20?” They reach Dean’s room, and he throws his duffle on the ground before searching for fresh clothes in a pile on the bed. “Lost count at some point. You know how it is. Fangs flying, heads rolling, a lot of beheading.”

“No, Dean, I don’t know,” Sam says, sporting one of his meanest bitch faces. “Usually, we don’t do shit like that.”

“I did,” Dean says, and finally looks up at Sam. “You mind? I’m busy here.”

It looks like Sam wants to argue, but then he shakes his head and storms off. Dean sighs. He doesn’t mean to be so horrible to Sam, but he can’t take any more pitiful smiles and speeches about a better tomorrow.

Dean is either in pain, or nothing can hurt him, and he goes back and forth so quickly, that it surprises even him sometimes. He doesn’t want to argue or hear Sam’s advice, he just wants to do his fucking job. Kill monsters, rinse, repeat. 

With a quick look to the door to make sure that Sam is gone, Dean gets out a bottle of whiskey from his nightstand and takes a big gulp before heading to the shower. The hot water is one of the few things that he enjoys these days, but long showers are out of the question. Just standing there under the water gives him too much time to think about all the things he wants to forget.

It’s better to be on the move, so he hunts, and then he drinks till the lights go out. It’s been like this for four months, and Dean suspects that it’s going to be like this for the rest of his life. After all, what else is there?

Back in his room, Dean takes another swig of his whiskey, and although he’d rather stay out of Sam’s way, he has to find some food. Dean’s not big on eating these days and prefers a liquid diet, but the last time he went without food, he crashed hard, and Sam followed him around for three days afterward to make sure that he ate enough.

Dean makes it to the kitchen unseen and wolfs down two slices of pizza from yesterday before heading back to his room. On the way, he walks past Sam’s current workplace. His laptop is in the middle of the table, and all around it are high stacks of books, some of them on chairs, others rising up from the ground. 

The reason for this extensive research is a small object lying in a little box in the center of the table. Dean can still feel the shape of it like a memory in his hand and fights the urge to pick it up. It’s a ring. A ring that Jack gave to him before vanishing through a fairy circle together with the love of Dean’s miserable life. 

During the first month after their departure, Dean sat with Sam at the table, reading every book that could possibly tell them anything about the ring. He was convinced that Jack wouldn’t just give him anything as a keepsake, especially since he'd spent way more time with Sam during his visit to the human world. Dean was sure that it had to be something to do with Cas.

During the second month, Dean kept calling people and drove around the country talking to mediums and psychics. Nobody knew anything about the ring, and when they weren’t spewing bullshit to make money, they all agreed that the ring had no special properties whatsoever.

The third month wasn’t any better. Sam put spells on it, either to reveal its power, or to make it do what it was created for, but nothing happened. They went back to research after that with Sam bringing in books from libraries and another bunker they found, but nothing shook loose. For all they knew, the ring could be from a freaking cereal box.

In month four, Dean stopped carrying the ring around, and while Sam never gave up on the research, Dean went back to hunting. That’s what he’s made for, that’s what he’s good at, and that’s the only thing he should care about. It’s been nearly half a year. It's time to move on.

Dean turns to go to his room when Sam comes through the door. He’s holding a ratty piece of paper and is gasping for breath. “There you are. I found something!”

He holds the paper out to Dean who makes no attempt to take it. It’s futile, and the sooner Sam gets that, the better. “I’ll be in my-”

Dean doesn't get to finish the sentence. Sam pushes the piece of paper against his chest, using so much force that Dean stumbles back and the paper falls to the ground. “Read it, you stupid idiot! Do you really think I would give you false hope when you’re already in such a state?”

His state is none of Sam’s business, but these days, Dean’s only way around Sam is through, so he picks up the paper and takes a closer look. It’s dirty and torn, with stains all over and the ink has disappeared in some places. Dean starts reading, guessing the words whenever they are missing.

“... only one skilled enough to make such objects was Gadreel. I’m not… they found him but all kinds of strange folk turned up at his… of them was called Chuck. He wanted a way to travel between… not taking no for an answer. It took them a month before they finished the… 

I don’t … if it worked, but never saw Chuck … Gadreel didn’t … me, but I found a piece of… with a drawing and symbols. I never … out what … but copied them … just in …

Another strange fella … the same … His name was Crowley and he-”

The page ends there, and Dean turns it around, but it’s empty. He can’t make sense of it, but Sam keeps staring at him with an excited expression and Dean’s stomach turns. There’s something here.

“It says Chuck, and somebody made something for him,” he muses. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You know that I brought some stuff over from the other bunker. These notes weren’t taken by the Men of Letters, but they deemed them interesting enough to keep them. They must have guessed that there was something important in them, but I don’t think they found it.”

“Is it something or not?” Dean says eagerly, not able to bear Sam’s long-winded explanations.

“I couldn’t find out who wrote this, but the name in the letter, Gadreel, is in some other documents, too. I think he was a fairy who lived in our world.”

Dean’s heart leaps. They'd barely found anything about fairies at all, aside from the fairy tale bullshit that people tell each other for fun. Now, they have evidence of a fairy who’s been in contact with a Chuck. It has to be Jack’s father.

“What does that mean? What do we have?” Dean says, staring down at the paper. He’s too confused to make any connections with this information.

Sam takes the paper from him. “I think that Gadreel was an outcast, but when the fairy prince came to him, he agreed to make something for him. From what I found about Gadreel, he was what fairies call a Magerro. He made magical objects. I can’t read the word on here, but I think he made that ring.”

They both look over to the table and doubt creeps into Dean. “They all told me it’s not magical. Even Pamela got nothing from it.”

“What do they know?” Sam huffs. “It’s not like fairies run around telling their secrets, and smart people stay away from them.”

“Sam-”

“It fits, Dean. It all fits,” Sam says, consulting the piece of paper. “A way to travel between worlds. Jack told me about his parents, and from Cas, we know that it’s a big deal, but they managed to do it all the time.”

He’s so confident that Dean can feel a surge of hope washing over him, but he can’t let it take him under before he’s absolutely sure. Still, he walks over to the table and picks up the ring for the first time in three months. “Okay, let’s assume you’re right, what do I do? Go to a fairy circle and put on the ring?”

“Maybe,” Sam says, and hands Dean another piece of paper. “It has something to do with this.”

This piece looks just as old and frail as the other one, and almost half the page is missing. At the rim, Dean can see lines as if something was drawn there, and the rest of the page is filled with squiggles, the kind that kids make before they learn an actual alphabet. “What’s with the chicken scratch?”

Sam runs his hands over his face and through his hair with a sigh. “Don’t know yet. I think it must be an incantation or something like that.”

“You think that’s a language?”

“I’ve never seen it before, so maybe it’s a fairy thing,” Sam says. “But it’s a lead.”

Dean wants to believe it. He’s tempted to go through all the books again to find something that could help them translate the piece of paper, but he’s been here before, he’s not sure he can take another hit. “Sam-”

“No, Dean,” Sam says quickly, anger in his voice. “You’re not giving up now, not when we actually have something. What you’re doing now is not a life, you can’t go on like that.”

“Cas is gone, Sammy,” Dean says, his voice breaking. It’s the first time he said the name out loud in four months, and his chest tightens, making it hard to breathe.

Sam taps his fingers to Dean’s chest, right over his heart. “Not from here, Dean. We’ve done crazier things with less. This is a chance.”

He nods to the piece of paper and Dean looks at it again. It’s nothing but nonsense lines and curves. Dean closes his eyes and sighs, making his decision. He has to try. For Cas.

A clear image forms in Dean’s mind. Cas lying next to him in bed, looking over to him with shining eyes and a soft smile. Dean’s heart beats faster, and he knows that it’s worth a lifelong search if there’s a chance that he can have that again. 

“Alright,” he says, not only to Sam but to himself, “let’s do this.”

Dean opens his eyes and looks at the paper, trying to decipher a starting point. Instead, there are words. “What the-? Can you see that?”

Sam checks the page. “See what?”

From his confused expression, Dean can tell that nothing changed for Sam, but he can still see the words. They make absolutely no sense, but they appeared when Dean thought about Cas. Finally, Dean lets himself do what he tried to avoid all this time. He remembers Cas, conjuring up pictures in his mind, and when the feelings of loss and longing bubble up inside of him, he doesn’t push them down.

The ring in his hand grows warmer, and the words in front of Dean seem perfectly clear, so he starts reading them out loud.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asks, his voice filled with worry.

Dean doesn’t answer. Now that he started, he can’t stop reading the words while the ring grows hotter with every second. 

“Dean?”

Sam stares at his Dean’s hand. Light appears, fighting its way out of his clenched fist, and when he has read the last word on the page, he opens it. 

A small ball of pure light hovers over his palm for a moment, then it shoots a few steps away and explodes. Sam and Dean both shield their eyes with their hands and only dare to look when the brightness subsides. What’s left is a bright, shining line in mid-air. 

“What is that?” Sam asks, and when Dean takes a step forward, Sam tries to grab him. “Dean, no!”

Dean doesn’t have a chance to come closer. The rift expands as if something is coming through and a second later, Cas is there, standing right in front of him.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, as if he’s just come through the bunker door.

“Cas?” Dean whispers, staring at him. It is Cas, but he’s back to wearing tight pants and leather boots, and his chest is covered with a vest made out of leaves. On his ruffled hair sits a crown woven out of different flowers and down his back flows a cape that seems to be an array of feathers in different colors and sizes.

“Hello?” Sam asks in a mocking tone, and Cas turns to him.

“Uh, that is still the term?”

Sam huffs, and Dean finally comes out of his stupor. He rushes forward and engulfs Cas in a tight hug, burying his face against Cas’ neck. 

Everything comes rushing back to him. Cas’ body pressed against his own, Cas’ smell, the sound of his voice, the blue of his eyes. After a second, Cas hugs him back, and Dean leans into it, not sure if he’s able to stay on his feet. 

Cas runs his hand over Dean’s back in soothing circles and watches Sam over his shoulder. “This portal leads to the fairy world. Jack is there if you want to say hi.”

“Is it safe?” Sam asks suspiciously, and Dean can feel Cas’ nod.

“It will stay open, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I- I’ll have a look then,” Sam says, and Dean laughs quietly into Cas’ shoulder. Sam can barely contain his excitement at the prospect of visiting the fairy world himself.

He walks past them, and although Dean can’t see it, he knows that Sam has vanished. Not that Dean cares. He’s perfectly content where he is now and clings to Cas, even when Cas’ hold on him loosens. “Dean, you have to let go eventually. I won’t go anywhere.”

Dean vacates his spot, but only to take Cas’ face in his hands and kiss him. He might disappear any second, and Dean doesn’t want to miss the chance. When they part, Dean stares into Cas’ eyes, still unsure if this is real or if he passed out after having too much whiskey.

“I think we need to talk,” Cas says, and Dean grabs him by the hand and leads him to his room. He needs to be in a safe space for whatever is coming next. 

They sit down next to each other on the bed, their shoulders touching, and Dean suppresses the urge to crawl onto Cas’ lap. “How are you here?”

“You invited me,” Cas says, and when Dean gives him a questioning look, he continues, “I guess I have to explain.”

“Please do,” Dean says, a bit of sarcasm in his voice, but Cas smiles, probably glad that Dean finds back to his old self. 

“I didn't know that Jack had these two rings-”

Dean raises his brows. “Two?”

“Yes,” Cas confirms. “I have one, too. Chuck gave them to him. It was what made it possible for Chuck to visit Kelly all these years ago. As it turns out, Lucifer wasn’t just after the throne, he also after a way to come and go between worlds as he pleased. That’s one of the reasons Jack never mentioned them, not even to me.”

“Then why did he push it at me at the last possible moment?”

“Chuck told him to keep them secret, but Jack also knew that I only went back to the fairy world for him. He didn’t want me to suffer, so he gave you one half of the set.”

Dean grunts. “Yeah, without any explanation. Sam has probably done more research in the last four months than his entire life before and I drove up and down the country to find somebody who could tell me what the ring was for. Why didn’t you just open that rift from your side?”

“I tried,” Cas sighs. “I used every bit of magic and all the spells we could think of, but there are rules to these things. Since the rings were made in the human world, the first connection between them had to be made from here.”

“Awesome,” Dean huffs, but Cas keeps on smiling at him.

“I trusted that if any humans could find a way, it would be you and Sam,” he says. “How did you do it?”

“Sam found an old entry in a diary, about Chuck asking some guy named Gadreel to build something for him,” Dean explains, and recognition shows on Cas’ face.

“Gadreel? He was outcast during the reign of Joshua, but I don’t know why. Maybe he tried to clear his name by helping the prince,” Cas muses. “What else?”

“We had a piece of paper with a spell on it. I think I dropped it,” Dean says, watching his hands as if it might come back to him. 

“I’ll be back in a second,” Cas says, and before Dean can protest, a gust of air brushes over him when Cas takes flight, and a moment later, he’s back at Dean’s side, holding the paper. “This?”

Dean nods. “At first it looked like nothing to me but then I thought about you, and suddenly I could read it.”

Cas squints at the page in concentration. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Why? What is it?”

“It’s an old fairy dialect. It says ‘Den ta lieba ta wenos tarsh liebogoy u senian makka pamozu,’” Cas says and while it is lovely to listen to him speak his own language, Dean has still no idea what it means.

He waves his hand in a circle. “Care to elaborate?”

“‘As long as there are love and longing in the two worlds, lovers should never be apart,’” Cas translates and although Dean is not a big poetry buff, he can appreciate the beauty of it. 

“So, when I thought about you and that I wanted to see you, the ring understood my-” Dean doesn’t finish the sentence, but Cas does it for him, still with that soft smile that he can’t seem to wipe off his face. 

“Love and longing, yes.”

Something deep inside of Dean begins to bubble to the surface. One fear still has a grip on him, but when what Cas says is true- “It’s not just a one-time thing then?”

“As long as we love and long to see each other, we will always be able to open a rift between the worlds,” Cas confirms Dean’s hope and his smile is broader and more radiant that Dean has ever seen it before.

Cas is glowing like a beacon of hope at the end of the long, dark tunnel that Dean’s been walking through for the last few months. The swelling happiness pours out of him in a rush, and without thinking he grabs Cas and throws him over onto the bed before crawling on top of him. 

“Dean,” Cas growls, but his tone is light and a small laugh winds out of his chest. 

“Guess we won’t have a problem then,” Dean says, beaming at Cas.

“No, I don't think we will,” Cas agrees.

Dean allows himself to take in all of Cas now that they have time, and his eyes travel to Cas’ chest. It might be covered now, but the leaves barely hold it together around Cas’ muscles, and his strong arms are still bare while the thin pants leave little to the imagination. Carefully, as not to disturb the flower crown, Dean runs his fingers through Cas’ hair. 

“What’s with the getup?”

“Oh,” Cas says, a light blush creeping onto his face. “Well, after we killed Lucifer, a new circle of advisors to the king formed, and they decided that Jack is still too young to reign. They voted for someone to takes his place until he’s ready and-”

“You’re the fairy king now?” Dean’s eyes grow big.

“Until Jack is ready, yes.”

“But then you have to go back, right? I’m sure you have stuff to-”

Cas shakes his head, the crown almost slipping off. “There’s Jack and ten advisors. They can manage without me for a while. We have time.”

That’s music to Dean’s ears, and he grins. “May I be of service to you then, my king?”

He can’t help that other things than love and longing mingle in his voice and he’s glad that they went to his bedroom. Cas picks up on his tone, and although he looks up to Dean, he still seems to have the upper hand. 

“Yes, you may,” he says, his voice full of promises and Dean thinks about his daydream involving Cas and whipped cream. It was so long ago, but he doesn’t mind remembering now. It’s nice to return to all these little moments with Cas because Dean can always come back to him now.

Dean kisses Cas with all the love that he carries inside. They continue to share their love for many, many years to come.

And they lived happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ❤ If you enjoyed it, I'd be happy to hear from you :)


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